A Priori
by vultures
Summary: Robin Hood and his trusted gang face down their age old enemies. The setting, though, is somewhat changed. Their battlefield is a council estate and a secondary school takes the place of the castle, but their old quarrel is just the same.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Priori

Fandom: BBC Robin Hood

Author: vultures, a.k.a andthedescent

Rated: Teen

Spoilers: None

Characters: Robin, Marian, Outlaws, Sheriff, Gisborne, OCs.

Summary: Robin Hood and his trusted gang face down their age old enemies and try to get the girl. The setting, though, is somewhat changed. Their battlefield is a council estate and a secondary school takes the place of the castle, but their old quarrel is just the same.

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing these characters from good ole Aunty Beeb. Don't sue me. I promise I'll bring them back more or less in one piece.

A/N: Written because I saw the challenge on Lady Clark of Books' profile, and thought it looked fun. So this is me, having a go too.

It was first thing on a Monday morning, officially the worst time of the week. To make matters worse, it was the first day back at school after the Christmas holidays, and I'd just been getting used to having a lie in. Being woken up at half past six by my radio alarm clock had been most displeasing. To top it all off, it was raining. Not heavily, just the sort of fine drizzle that you don't even notice until much later, when you suddenly realise that you're soaked. And my hair had probably gone frizzy. Fan-bloody-tastic.

"Alright?"

A voice startled me from my oh so cheerful musings and I looked as Georgia slipped into the seat next to me.

"Alright?," I mumbled into my arm, lacking the energy to raise my head up off of the desk to greet my friend. She nodded, grinning cheerfully. Sometimes I wished that I could be a morning person, too.

"Have a good Christmas?" she asked and, without waiting for a reply, quickly answered her own question. It was a habit of hers. "I did. Mum and dad got me the camera I wanted. You'll have to come round and see it. I was gonna bring it in today, but thought I'd better not. Didn't want it getting nicked."

As she spoke, she threw a pointed glance over her shoulder towards the back of the room, to where Safiyah was sitting, reading a battered old book out of her bag. Her eyes were fixed on the page and she appeared oblivious to the insult just tossed at her, but I saw her glance upwards briefly as John and Guy, sitting behind us, laughed. Then she caught me looking and her expression hardened as she glared at me. I just raised my eyebrows in reply and turned back to the people seated around me. If the girl was going to hate me for who I was friends with, I wasn't going to try and be friends. After all, the rumours about her might well be true.

"Hi, Maz," Guy grinned as I turned to join the conversation going on next to me. "Have a good new year?"

"You should know," I rolled my eyes, "You were there most of the time, hanging around on my doorstep." Georgia snorted in amusement, and he had the decency to look just slightly shamed. Before he could say anything back, however, somebody else had cut in.

"I saw you at the shops on Saturday." John Sheriff, everybody. Our resident gang leader, sado-masochist, and unrepentant busybody. He was eyeing me slightly suspiciously, as though I had no right to do such a thing as to go into town and stock up on mascara and deodorant.

"Yeah? What's it to you, Sheriff?"

"Just that you were with a bloke. Not from round here. And he looked like one of them council estate scum," he wrinkled his nose. That was the thing about him; if you were one of his mates, you were laughing. He basically controlled the school and most of the estate, and his cronies tended to have a good time of it. But he liked to be in control.

"That was my cousin, thanks!" I snapped, glaring at him, and pretended not to notice the visible look of relief on Guy's face. As if he had any right to care who I was out with, anyway. But then, even thought I hated to, I felt the need to validate myself. Sheriff and his gang made life easy for me when I was one of them, but if I crossed them they had the power to make things very difficult for me indeed. "And he'd just got off a flight from Australia. He was jetlagged." I added irritably.

"Just looking out for you, princess," Sheriff shrugged.

"Yeah. Thanks," I answered, glancing at the clock on the wall. My ten minutes stuck in this classroom were almost up, and then it was off to first lesson. Maths, the joy. I stood up and picked my bag up off of the floor before Guy could offer to carry it for me. He might have been sweet, in another life. As it was he was just vaguely scary.

"It's time to go," I added, unnecessarily, because a moment later the bell that signalled the end of registration began, and the lot of us scurried out into the corridor before our hapless tutor could work out that she hadn't actually taken the register yet.

As I slipped into the chaos that was the main corridor, I weaved expertly through the crowds to make my way to maths before my irritable teacher could scold me for being about two seconds late. I was almost there when something hard - an elbow, I realised a moment later - connected with my side and sent me staggering into the wall. I threw my hands out to catch myself, but the owner of the elbow had already realised their mistake and grabbed my arm to steady me.

I spun around, mouth open and ready to chew their bloody ear off for shoving me, and froze.

The eyes. The smile. The too-long hair. I recognised them.

"Sorry about that," the boy who'd run into me said, and I recognised the voice, too. I watched as his eyes widened then, and he raised his eyebrows as he looked at me. "Marian! Marian Fitzwalter, yeah?"

It was only my childhood playmate. The boy who, at the tender age of five, I'd kissed on the cheek and promised I would marry someday. Only Robin Locksley.

My mouth opened, and I was uncharacteristically lost for words.

"Uh…"

He laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for the review. Here's the next chapter. Another slow one, I'm afraid, but I promise that there will be some action soon. Any and all reads/reviews are appreciated

"What are you doing here?" I asked, once my mouth and my brain and decided to connect themselves once again. I hadn't seen Robin for years. Like most of my class in primary school, he'd gone on to the local comprehensive when he turned eleven, but halfway through year seven he'd moved away. That was four years ago now, and I'd never expected to run into him again.

"I'm back here now," he shrugged. "Got back just before Christmas."

I couldn't help it; my heart leapt.

"You mean for good? You're properly living here again?" I asked, trying desperately to sound casual and at the same time wondering why I cared so much. But he'd been one of my best friends when we were younger, of course I was pleased to see him again.

"Yep. Got fed up of the foreign food, didn't I?" he smiled, and I couldn't help but grin back at him. He looked so different; older, obviously. When he'd left he'd still been just a little boy, but there was something else about him too. His grin was as infectious as always, but he looked… tired, somehow. Still, it was unmistakeably him.

"So where are you living now? Are you back in Victoria ave, or what? How come I haven't seen you?" His father had been in the army, high up. Some sort of diplomat, I assume. Four years ago he'd been assigned a new position, and moved himself, his wife and child to live with him while he worked in Germany. Then Africa. Then Israel, and god knows how many other places. I knew this because, at first, Robin had kept in touch with his old friends. Then, a few weeks after he let us know that his latest move, to Lebanon, had gone smoothly, the letters stopped coming. At first I'd been worried, then hurt. Eventually I assumed that he'd just forgotten about his old mates. But now he was back; I couldn't help but be just a little excited.

He pulled a face at my question. "I'm on the other side of the estate now."

I frowned. "What? Where d'you-"

"Finish your conversation elsewhere, please. You're obstructing the corridor," a voice snapped behind me, and I turned to see the deputy head scowling at the pair of us as she passed. I glanced down at my watch, and swore.

"Look, I'm gonna be late for maths-" I apologised, turning away from Robin, but he caught my arm again.

"Who've you got?"

"Mr Harvey."

"Me too, you can show me what room I've gotta go to," he grinned, and took my arm. Repressing a sigh, I set off down the corridor, tugging him to keep up as we reached the door, slipping inside just before Mr Harvey slammed it shut. We'd made it; his rule was that if the door was closed by the time you got to the classroom, you were late. Now the only problem was to find a decent seat; your place tended to get nicked if it looked like you were absent.

"Maz! Over here," Guy was in the second row, next to the girls I'd normally talk to. And he'd saved me a seat. Shooting an apologetic glance over my shoulder at Robin, I went and sat down. I caught Robin's look of surprise out of the corner of my eye, and kept my head down as he went and took the only other spare seat; right at the front of the room and close to the teacher. No wonder it had been left free; Mr Harvey was notorious for picking on the people at the front to answer questions. That Safiyah girl from my reg group was next to him, and she and a dark haired boy looked up in surprise as he joined them. John and Guy had never liked them, and as a result they mostly sat alone.

"Who's that?" Aimee, sitting to my left, asked. Before I could answer, Guy cut me off.

"Robin Locksley," he sounded faintly surprised, "I thought he was in India or something."

"It was his dad's job though, wasn't it? I suppose he finished and got let back home," I shrugged, suddenly mindful that Robin and Guy had never been friendly.

"You know what I heard?" that was John, sounding smug, as though he knew something that we didn't. And that was never a good thing.

"What?" Natasha, the violently red haired girl sitting behind us leaned forwards to listen in to our conversation.

"I heard that his dad got killed out in wherever they were. So him and his mum, they moved back home, didn't they? But they haven't got any money, so now they're living in those council flats 'round the back of the chip shop." He sounded positively gleeful at the thought. As for me? I just felt vaguely sick.

I glanced up at the board and copied down the date and title, just to make it look as though I was doing something, and sneaked another look at Robin. He was in front of me and to the left, talking to Safiyah. She was deep in conversation, explaining or describing something animatedly while he listened, with eyebrows slightly raised, looking interested. It was the most I'd ever seen the girl say at one time. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of something like jealously, or regret. Why hadn't I sat next to him?

"Locksley," Sheriff finished importantly, "Is a chav."

Yeah. That's why.


	3. Chapter 3

Concentrating on the page differentiation problems in the textbook in front of me was nigh on impossible. For the best part of an hour I tried unsuccessfully to complete the work, but calculations that would usually come easily to me seemed intent on remaining unfinished, and in the end I gave it up as a bad job, and took to staring intently at the back of Robin's head instead. Suddenly things had become a great deal more complicated than they had been this morning, when my only concerns had been frizzy hair and a lack of lie-ins.

I wondered whether Robin, now carrying out a whispered conversation with the dark haired boy in the front row in between irritated glances by Mr Harvey, would be in any other of my classes. Furthermore, would John and Guy give up this instant prejudice they seemed to have picked up for the boy? Glancing sideways at them, only to see them conversing in mutterings too soft for me to hear, a wave of doubt washed over me. I sighed, and glanced down to the unintelligible scribbling in my maths book.

"Alright, _Maz?_" Robin muttered in my ear a few minutes later, when the bell signalling the end of the lesson rang as the class rose as one to scramble for the door.

"Don't you start calling me that too," I snapped, but couldn't help grinning at him as we forced our way out into the maths corridor. He grinned back, looking as though he was about to say something else, when I felt someone grab my arm. I looked around in surprise to see Guy there, apparently waiting impatiently for me to go off to History with him. John stood at his side, and I didn't miss the glance between them, or the slightly sneering expression on Sheriff's face as he looked at my old friend.

"Come on, Maz. We're doing Hiroshima today," Guy reminded me insistently, and his grip on my elbow was firm. I glanced at Robin, opening my mouth, but at that moment John decided to mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "chavscum". His expression, which had been mildly surprised before, hardened and he turned away, to where the people he'd sat with in maths were waiting a little further along the corridor, as though curious to see what was keeping him.

I glanced apologetically over my shoulder as Guy dragged me off to my next lesson but he was already talking to someone else, and did not look up at me again.

As it turned out, Robin wasn't in any of my other lessons at all, though I did see him briefly at break time, and then again at lunch. Both times he was accompanied by either the dark haired boy or the girl from my registration group, and then by a boy it took me a moment to recognise as his best friend from primary school. Either he didn't notice me, even when I deliberately walked close to where his little group had set themselves up outside the P.E doors when I went to the bins or to visit the loo, or Guy's constant presence, like a particularly clingy bodyguard, at my side had put him off of coming over to say hello.

Very quickly it emerged that his circle of friends and mine were never going to overlap, in a sort of big Venn diagram of camaraderie. Sheriff made a point of making snide comments whenever Robin entered a room with his new little gang, who generally made a point of replying in monosyllables or with a few choice four letter words. Tensions ran high, and it became obvious that something was going to happen and soon. What that something was, though, I had no idea.

I could only hope that it wasn't something messy, and preferably not involving me.


	4. Chapter 4

"What's up with you?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in surprise as I took my seat in reg. John and Guy were sitting behind me as usual, but today both were wearing matching expressions of outrage and disgust, conversing in angry whispers. It was quite comical, actually.

Georgia looked around as I sat down, and she too seemed to be worked up about something. Glancing towards Sheriff, as though seeking his permission before spreading the what was obviously going to be a spectacular piece of news, she heaved a sigh.

"Haven't you seen it all?"

"All what?" I asked, confused. My eyes travelled between the two boys behind me as they exchanged a dark look.

"All the crap," John said slowly, spitting the words out like venom, "That _someone _has sprayed all 'round the estate."

"Excuse me?" I blinked. _Je ne comprende, monsieur. _What the hell are you talking about? But John merely rolled his eyes irritably at me, as though I were being deliberately stupid, and didn't bother to explain. I looked to Guy instead, my expression quizzical.

"Graffiti," he told me, and when I continued to stare at him he elaborated, "By Locksley's little gang, sprayed all down our street. The bastards even did it on John's front wall."

I laughed, my eyes widening in surprise, and all three turned to glare at me. I quietened at once, but could not completely hide my amusement at their outrage.

"Why are you so worked up about it?" I asked, and John's expression became, if possible, even stormier.

"Everyone," he ground out, "Is laughing about it. They're laughing about us, laughing about _me!" _

So that was it; the reason a bit of graffiti had gotten John Sheriff so hot and bothered. Everyone thought it was funny, they were laughing at his expense. He'd been humiliated, and he couldn't stand it. Personally, I made a mental note to make sure I saw this graffiti first hand, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of trepidation. John was well and truly pissed off, and things could quickly become unpleasant when he was angry. When the bell rang to signal the start of lessons, it was almost a relief to get away from him.

As a matter of fact, I didn't run into either Sheriff or Guy again until the beginning of lunch. It was probably a good thing, seeing as there had been amused muttering and whispers in each of my lessons about what had happened. Everyone seemed to have heard about it. Graffiti happened all the time, of course. There were even a few tags scribbled on the school walls, but it was the open act of disrespect to Sheriff's gang that had everyone talking. Sheriff and his cronies had been undisputed rulers of the school and, furthermore, the estate, for a couple of years now. The people who picked fights with them tended to mysteriously be too ill to come to school, only to reappear again a week or so later, still marked with only just fading bruises. John didn't beat them up himself, of course. He got his lackeys to do it for him.

I met my usual group outside the library doors, as usual. It was common knowledge that only people with no friends at all ventured inside the quiet, dusty hall in their free time, but the stretch of corridor leading to the library was not often patrolled by teachers, and thus a safe haven for anyone wishing to sit around, eat or have a quick smoke without having to venture outside. A few of the girls I usually hung around with were already there. Sheriff had taken his throne, I noticed, sitting halfway up the set of stairs that lead up to the art department, while the others languished at the bottom. Much to my disgust, Natasha was more or less draping herself over him in an attempt to garner attention. Much to my amusement, he was more or less ignoring her. It was obvious that he was still in a foul mood from this morning.

"Stacey Gardner snogged Gareth Mitchell today," Georgia told me, as soon as I reached them, dropping my bag down at the bottom of the stairs with those of the others.

"Really?" I asked, feigning interest.

"Yeah," she seemed enthusiastic about this latest piece of gossip. "Aimee saw them going at it outside English this morning. And Stacey was meant to be going out with Michael-"

"She's a whore," another of my friends, a willowy blonde girl called Christina added, sniffing haughtily. I had the urge to remind her of the time when she'd done exactly the same thing with two different boys, but managed to resist. Barely. The others were probably still annoyed at me for finding the situation earlier funny. If I wasn't careful, there would probably be a rumour going around about me by the end of the week. My crowd were like that.

"Yeah, but Michael was touching up Madeline in R.E last week, anyway," someone else added, and the whole issue sparked off again while I extricated a little pot of M&S salad from my bag, unfolded the little plastic fork that came with it, and started to eat.

"Oh, would you just give it a rest," John snapped as the debate (If your boyfriend's already cheated on you, is it acceptable to snog any bloke you fancy behind his back? Discuss.) reached a crescendo, which culminated with Natasha accusing Christina of being a stuck-up slag, and being screamed at in response. Suitably chastened, the girls shut up, and Sheriff turned to glare at two year sevens descending the stairs instead.

Irritatingly for him, they didn't appear at all cowed as they tried to squeeze past the lot of us to get down to the library corridor. Instead they merely grinned cheerfully, sharing a look.

"Is it true what someone's written in the loo?" one of them had the audacity to pipe up with, and John's eyebrows snapped together in a scowl. My attention fixed on what was going on further up the stairs, I distractedly pulled my bag, from where it was now lying in the middle of the corridor, towards me with my foot to allow a group of people to get past.

"What have they written?" John demanded to know, getting to his feet. At once the lot of us scrambled up too, waiting in trepidation to see what happened. The two year sevens, a boy and a girl, visibly quailed.

"N-nothing," the girl stammered, grabbing hold of her friend's arm and starting to hurry down the staircase, but they were not going to get away that easily. John stepped after her, grabbing the poor girl's arm and spinning her around to face him. She stumbled, and might have fallen down the stairs if he hadn't been holding her so tightly.

"I asked you a question, and I suggest that you answer me," he warned, voice dangerous. The girl looked terrified. I opened my mouth, about to speak, but someone beat me to it.

"An' I suggest that you let her go," came a new voice, confident, from behind me, "Unless you want it getting 'round the school that you've taken to beating up little girls?"

I turned around, and realised that the group of people who I'd moved my bag for a moment ago had been Robin's little gang. They were gathered there now, while Robin stood looking up incredulously at what was happening on the stairs. As I watched, he caught my gaze and grinned slightly, but just as quickly returned his attention to John. The girl's friend had paused halfway in the act of running down the stairs, and was staring avidly between the two boys as they visibly squared up to each other. John was the first to move, releasing the girl who ran down the stairs at once, accompanied by her friend. Safiya stepped forwards to them, putting an almost protective hand on the girl's shoulder, and glared up at John, who's anger was almost palpable now.

"You can piss off, Locksley," he spat, but Robin just grinned up at him.

"Just defending innocent kids, Sheriff," he retorted, apparently amused, "You really need to sort out your temper."

There was a pause, in which I thought that John might throw something, and then he stormed down the stairs. I stepped out of his way, thinking that perhaps he was going to fly at Robin, but instead he just strode angrily past me and set off down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Natasha called after him, frowning.

"Toilets."

There was a split-second of silence, and then Robin and his friends burst out laughing. It was infectious.


	5. Chapter 5

The writing in the toilets, as it turned out, happened to be a decidedly non PC comment on John's sexuality, even offering an inventive example as proof to back up its claim. I suspected involvement on Robin's part.

Sheriff (as everyone had taken to calling him, perhaps copying Robin) was raving for the rest of the day, glaring daggers at anyone who so much as said hello to him. As I had suspected that it would, the story of his little altercation with the year seven girl had got out somehow, too, and the rest of the school were laughing (though not to his face). I suspected Robin's involvement in that, too.

The upshot of all this was that I decided to walk home on my own, thoroughly fed up of Sheriff's and Guy's continued ranting. I didn't live far from the school, and usually walked part of the way with the two boys, seeing as they lived in the road after mine. There were two ways back to my house, however, and I decided to opt for the path less travelled and cut through part other estate I usually made a point of avoiding. People tended to get their phones nicked 'round these parts if they weren't careful, but I kept my head down and walked fast, trying not to proclaim "rich kid" as I hurried home.

I was only about five minutes away from where I lived when I turned a corner and became aware of two people nearby, both wearing dark hoodies with their faces obscured in shadow. Furthermore, both of them looked up to watch me as I turned into the street. Quickly, I looked around, taking stock of my surroundings. There was nobody else around, and I cursed myself for my stupidity. I _knew _that this was the rough part of the estate. Getting annoyed all the way home by the boys was better than getting mugged. Maybe if I ran-

"Marian?" one of the figures called, and I hesitated. A warm feeling of relief flooded through me; the voice was familiar. I crossed the street to greet him, and now as the streetlight's orange glow illuminated the face beneath the hood I could see that it was Robin.

"What're you doing 'round here?" he asked, and I shrugged.

"Walking home. Avoiding Sheriff. What're you doing?" I took in his appearance; he was still wearing school uniform, though he'd taken off his blazer and stuffed it in his bag, and pulled on a hoodie instead. The red trainers that contrasted so visibly with the grey of his school trousers certainly weren't school uniform either, though he'd been wearing them all day. There was a spray can in his hand, and his friend stood behind him with an armful of paint. I raised my eyebrows.

"You know Much," Robin introduced me, following my gaze. The strawberry blonde boy nodded awkwardly at me, and I at him. We'd all been friends once when we were little, but now the complicated social standings at school would make it almost impossible. If we went by the feudal system, I'd be a Lady and he a peasant. I guessed that he was dwelling on the same thing, by the slightly guarded expression on his face.

"Yeah," I nodded, and my eyes travelled to the wall behind him, where wet paint glistened. The throw-up he was writing was both unfinished and rather profane. I raised my eyebrows at it and he shrugged.

"Anything to piss off Sheriff, eh?"

"You're doing a good job," I noted. He's furious."

"I do my best," he grinned. His cheerfulness seemed a bit forced, and I think e realised it because he looked away again, back to the wall.

"'Sheriff's a knob' isn't particularly creative," I commented, turning a slow circle to look at the rest of the graffiti his gang had covered any exposed brickwork in. Robin looked around at me again, amused.

"Got anything better?" he challenged.

"Stick with the classics," I advised him, "Call him a bastard and he'll take it literally, think you're insulting his family. It'll piss him right off."

"I'll remember that," he laughed, turning to his friend again. Much passed him another tip for the nozzle of the spray can and Robin fumbled with changing it over, fingers numb with cold. For a moment I wished that I had a pair of gloves to lend him, but mine were pink and I didn't think that he'd appreciate that. And I'd never get them back.

"Why are you helping me insult your mate, anyway?" he asked, starting to spray again in smooth, careful movements.

"I don't know. Because it's funny?" Anyway, I reasoned, because I wasn't sure how to answer, "We used to be mates."

He made a mistake on the throw-up and swore, grabbing another colour to try and correct it. When he spoke his voice was guarded.

"Yeah. We did."

"When we were little," I added quickly.

"A long time ago," he agreed."

"Years."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward silence. Much looked as thought he would very much like to melt through the wall he was leaning against and disappear from the situation. Robin was deliberately continuing to work on his piece of graffiti, not looking around, while I stood uncomfortably picking the bobbles off of my wool scarf.

"I'd better go-"

"See ya." He'd dismissed me before I'd even finished making my excuses, and for some reason that stung. I smiled briefly at Much, and tried not to notice when he immediately turned and began to mutter something to Robin as I started to walk away.

A good night's sleep, it seemed, did nothing to improve Sheriff's mood. When I greeted him and Guy the next morning he merely glared at me in reply. Apparently, he'd seen the new graffiti around the estate, and wasn't best pleased. I couldn't help but be amused at his bad mood, though I was beginning to worry about what steps he might take. If he wasn't past threatening a year seven girl, I shuddered to think what he might be capable of if he were really pissed off. And Robin was definitely pissing him off. It wasn't until maths, however, that I got wind of what his plan of action was going to be.

I took my seat in the second row as usual and pulled out my half finished coursework, frowning as I looked down at my box plot diagrams. And that was when I heard the whispers starting behind me.

"Heard they snuck over in a cargo hold, a whole load of them all crammed in, you know?" Natasha was muttering maliciously and I paused, abandoning my work to listen curiously.

"I 'eard that all the girls sell have to sell 'emselves when they get over here just to make a bit of money for their family," someone else put in, and I surreptitiously dropped my pen, making myself an excuse to turn around and see what was going on. The group of girls behind, some of my crowd I occasionally went around with, were whispering excitedly amongst themselves in a way that could only mean that they'd picked up a new piece of juicy gossip. As I watched, they raised their heads as one to stare avidly at the back of Safiya's head. I raised my eyebrows, glancing sideways at Sheriff. He grinned back, and instantly I knew the source of these rumours.

"What the hell are you playing at?" I hissed, glaring between him and Guy.

"Just a little bit of retribution," Sheriff shrugged, "He tries to ruin my reputation, I ruin his. An eye for an eye, and all that."

"But you're not ruining his reputation, you're ruining someone else's. And you're being a bloody racist," I snapped. Sheriff just shrugged, unconcerned and shot me his best innocent look. I scowled, looking back down at my coursework. It was difficult to concentrate while all around me whispers told awful stories about the girl sitting in the chair in front. And, as she stiffened, shooting a fleeting glance back at us over her shoulder, I felt sure that she'd heard every word of it. Of course, that was the point.

When the bell rang for break I stalked out of the room. It was slightly hypocritical of me, I was sure, since I'd certainly spread a rumour or two in my time, but this… it was out of order, plain and simple. I heard Guy calling my name from behind me but pretended not to hear; up ahead the Safiya girl had stormed off, the first out of the classroom, and disappeared down the corridor that lead to the science block. Even though she was walking straight and proud, I didn't miss the glint of angry tears in her eyes. Deliberately not looking back at the others behind me, I sped up to follow her.

_Sorry all of my friends have decided to make your life hell. You see, it's all about that writing on the wall in the boy's loo… _And of course, that sounded stupid. I didn't even know what I could say to the girl. I'd never spoken to her before in my life, except perhaps to say excuse me as I brushed past her on the way into reg. Maybe she wouldn't even listen to me. Maybe she'd hit me. Shit, what was I doing? I had no idea what to say to the girl, other than that I should at least say something…

I froze halfway down the science corridor. From one of the empty classrooms, I could hear voices.

"I know I'm being stupid, but-"

"Shh, no. You're not being stupid. They're being complete idiots, you've got every right to be upset-"

I didn't think I'd ever heard the dark haired boy from maths speak before, but there he was. I could see him sitting awkwardly on the edge of a desk, his eyes following the movements of the girl in front of him as she paced backwards and forwards between the rows of desks. Her eyes were swimming with tears but she seemed irritated, rather than upset. Maybe I'd been too hasty in thinking that she needed my help.

"Have you heard it all? All the stuff they've been saying," she hissed, and whirled around to face him, eyes narrowed. I'm sure I saw him shrink back, as though intimidated at the force and anger that the girl's body contained. "All the shit they've spread. If my mother heard any of it. If my aunt-" And here her voice did tremble, just slightly, and she looked small again.

"Djaq," the boy said, softly, and I was surprised at the sincere tenderness of his expression. I didn't know what he'd said, but the word seemed to be a name, because Safiya responded to it. She'd been staring intently at the ceiling, blinking back tears that she refused to acknowledge, but as she spoke she lowered her eyes to his. He slid off of the desk, self-consciously holding his arms out, as though he was half afraid that she'd shun the offered embrace. But she didn't. She stepped into his hug, hiding her face against his shoulder.

"Will?" she murmured, voice muffled against his creased white shirt.

"Mm?"

"If you tell the others about this, I will kill you."

Outside in the corridor, I quietly slipped away. Back to the people I called my friends; Sheriff and Guy, the girls and their insipid gossip.

**A/N: **Thank you for the kind reviews and comments. Not to worry, there will be much more of the gang in the coming chapters, and more action too.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Once again, thank you for the kind reviews. I should probably add that this chapter contains some language that some readers may find offensive. Nothing worse than you'd hear in the playground anyway, though.

My father bade me a fun day at school as I stepped out of his car the next morning, and ran the few steps to the main entrance. Students weren't strictly supposed to use it during school hours, but my dad had pulled up just outside it and there was no way that I was going to walk all the way around to the entrance by the canteen in the pouring rain.

"How come you got a lift?" Georgia asked me as, narrowly avoiding slipping over on the wet tiled floor, I discovered my usual group loitering by the vending machines. They were located at the bottom of the stairs that led to the languages department, and we were never disturbed in our conversations by them. Last year, in response to the health-food frenzy that a certain celebrity chef had stirred up, the school had removed everything good out of them and replaced it with bottled water and tasteless multigrain bars. Needless to say, the poor machines hadn't been used since.

"Yeah, where were you on the way to school?" Guy asked suspiciously. The other girls just glared enviously at my miraculously dry hair. The lot of them looked like drowned rats.

"Dad was going to a meeting and he had to come this way, anyway," I shrugged, pulling my phone out of my pocket and double checking that it was set on silent.

"You could have let me know. I might have been waiting for you," he persisted, and continued to regard me as though I had done him a great personal wrong.

"Well, sorry. Low battery on my phone, I forgot to charge it. Didn't want to use it all up on a phone call," I answered defensively. It was the truth, actually. I'd forgotten to put my mobile on charge last night, and I only had about twelve percent left. I was hoping that if I didn't use it unless I really had to, it would last me until I got home.

"You shouldn't be so careless, Maz," came a condescending voice from behind me, and I spun around to come face to face with Sheriff as he approached our little group. The others made room for him to take his place, leaning casually against one of the drinks machines as we waited for the bell that signalled the beginning of morning registration. I kept one eye on my watch, occasionally looking up to add my opinions to whatever the others happening to be discussing, which was mostly what such and such was wearing, and who so and so had been spotted with after school. Then, just before half past, the nearby doors swung open with a clang and I looked up to see Safiya - Djaq - whatever she was calling herself, walking in. At once my friends erupted in a chorus of giggles and muttering.

"I'm surprised you've decided to show your face today," Sheriff remarked lazily, watching the girl with raised eyebrows as she stopped and turned to face him.

She frowned, as though puzzled. "Why's that, then?"

"Well, rumour has it…" he paused, as though to enjoy the effect of his words. To his consternation, the girl seemed unaffected. "That you've been up to some rather interesting antics."

"Well I'm surprised you decided to show yours too."

I looked up, interested, in time to see Sheriff's look of confusion.

"Really?" he half-laughed, "Why's that?"

"Well, it's just… the face…" she gestured to it, quirking one half of her mouth downwards as though in an expression of pity. I had to stifle a surprised laugh as Guy instantly stood up taller at a glance from Sheriff - acting as the older boy's henchman, as usual. The object of their failed torment, though, had already walked away. I smiled down at my watch as I checked the time again. I suppose, though, that I should have known that they'd have a plan B up their sleeve.

Plan B, as I discovered when I entered the Food Technology classroom later that day, was 'go after Much'.

I took my usual seat next to a pleasant, if slightly dim girl called Amelia and pulled out my folder. Our coursework was to design a healthy meal so no doubt our ageing old battleaxe of a teacher would be ranting on about fats for the best part of the lesson. For the third time. Much sat at the back of the class, next to the only other boy, our resident class comedian Allan Dale. Naturally, no boy took cookery if they could possibly help it for fear of having their sexuality questioned, but those who were late choosing their options got stuck with the only class that had spaces: mine. Dale spent most of our theory lessons listening to his iPod, and most of the practical eating the ingredients, but I rather thought that Much was learning to love the subtle art that was setting things on fire, then calling it fine cuisine.

So of course, I turned around to find the rest of the class asking him whether he was gay.

"So I heard you were chatting up some bloke in the Christmas holidays-" some bright spark was asking him, and I naturally assumed that it had something to do with the frankly fantastic crème brûlée he'd made in our last practical lesson. Then someone mentioned the name of a certain acquaintance of mine, and my heart sank.

"But Sheriff said it's true, ee's an effing fag-"

I looked at Much as the others continued their discussion and Mrs Abbott sat at her desk, glaring at the disturbance but apparently unwilling to try (and fail) to do anything about it. Whereas most people had long since come up with some semblance of an unconcerned act to put on when they were threatened, Much's hurt was clear in his expression.

"But… He's making it all up," he stammered, wide-eyed, and the others just laughed. Allan had stuck in his earphones and was leaning back on his chair, removing himself from the debate (he probably wished that he could remove himself from the class entirely, too), and only the blonde girl sitting on the desk next to his seemed to have noticed that he was getting genuinely upset.

"But that bloke off the telly's gay, and he's still really fit," she piped up, and for a moment the others turned their attention from Much to listen to her.

"Who? Graham Norton?" one of them laughed and she grinned abashedly.

"Don't be stupid. You know, the one who sings!"

But the students around her were already laughing, and this time it was with the source of the joke rather than at them.

"Oh no, Eve, it's too late. You've admitted that you fancy Graham Norton!" her best friend crowed, and while the others giggled I saw Much lower his head into his hands, breathing a sigh that might have been relief. At least for the moment, the attention had been diverted from him. The only problem was, I was sure that Sheriff wasn't going to rest there.

I was right; the whispers and hurtful rumours followed the poor boy down the corridors like a particularly malicious shadow, and every time I saw him he looked perpetually harassed. Safiya had managed to shrug off the stories being spread about her, but it seemed as though Much was more easily wounded.

However, I'd just remembered that I had a worksheet for science due in after lunch, which I hadn't started at all. My science teacher, Mr Collins, was a pretty decent bloke, but only if you put in the effort. He'd excuse wrong answers if you'd at least had a go at the question, but if you hadn't bothered in the first place… That was when you got into trouble.

The upshot of all this was, of course, that I spent the majority of my lunch break sitting in the _library _of all places, hastily scribbling down answers to questions and trying to remember how to work out moles of an element (mass divided by Ar - I _will _memorise it, I _will…_) Outside I could hear the usual sounds of the playing field; laughs, shrieks and, somewhere, the faint ritualistic chant of "fight, fight fight!" I did my best to ignore it and get on with my work. CH4? That's methane. Mass? That's moles multiplied by Ar… I breathed a sigh of relief when'd answered the last question, reasonably sure that I'd done quite well. I stuffed the worksheet back into my bag, and left as rapidly as possible.

To my surprise, the others weren't on the stairs. Frowning, I checked by the vending machines. Not there, either. With only five minutes of lunch left, they wouldn't still be in the canteen. What was going on?

"Where is everyone?" I asked Dalton, another of the Sheriff's occasionally lackeys, as I passed him in the corridor. He grinned, looking slightly excited.

"Haven't you heard?" he seemed surprised.

"Obviously not, or I wouldn't be asking. What's happened?"

The boy smiled with the air of one cradling a bombshell. "Guy and Locksley are having a fight."

"What?" I snapped, "Why?" He shrugged.

"Something about rumours, I think. Last I heard they were kicking the shit out of each other."

"Where?" I demanded to know. He appeared alarmed by my sudden frantic need for information. So was I, actually. Where had this come from?

"Rugby pitch, I think-" I was off before he'd even finished speaking, almost running in my haste to get outside and find out what was going on. I dodged a group of year nine chavs, who glared at me as I rushed past, and burst out of the door by the P.E block. Sure enough there was a crowd gathered on the field, but by the time I'd reached them so had the deputy head, and they were dispersing. I weaved my way through, trying to catch sight of-

"Ah, Marian. You missed all the fun!"

I spun around at a touch on my arm to see Sheriff. Guy was by his side, mopping up a bloody nose with a tissue and looking sulky.

"What on earth happened?" I asked, eyeing him closely. His once pristine school shirt was now more brown than white, and there was dirt on his cheek, but that seemed to be the extent of his injuries.

"Locksley punched me," he muttered. He looked slightly hopeful, as though I might decide, in my sympathy, that I would comfort him. Sorry to disappoint, but I had other things on my mind. Like what had happened to Robin. I couldn't see him anywhere…

"Where's Locksley now, then?" I asked, trying for nonchalance and quite possibly failing. The others, luckily, seemed to take my anxiety for excitement.

"Got carted off by a teacher. There was a lot of blood," Sheriff told me, grinning nastily. Behind me the bell rang to signal the start of lessons, and I scarcely heard it. Dream-like, I turned tail and ran for the building.

"Where are you going?" Guy called after me, disappointed. I looked back, hesitating.

"Feel sick! The sight of blood, you know?" I gestured at his nose and then ran, not caring who I pushed past to get back in through the P.E doors. I immediately headed for the medical room. If someone had been injured, then that's where they would be. But when I peered around the doorway, the miserable, odd smelling little room was empty. My heart thudded against my ribcage. Where could he be?

I wandered the now deserted corridors, avoiding teachers and searching fruitlessly. I even considered peering into the boys toilets to see if he was in there, bleeding on the floor or something, but then thought better of it. What if I was seen? I was going to be in enough trouble as it was, skipping science. I honestly didn't know what I was playing at…

And that was when I came across him, lounging on a chair outside the headmaster's office. I skidded to a halt, surprised, and turned to look him over. He was muddy and his lower lip was dark with drying blood, but otherwise unharmed. I was going to _kill _Sheriff for making me worry like that.

"Hi," he looked up from where he'd been chewing broodingly on his thumbnail, and noticed me standing there.

"Hi," I echoed, stepping closer. He eyed me curiously.

"Why aren't you in lessons?"

"I… I was looking for you," I admitted.

His eyebrows rose. "Why?"

I shrugged, contemplating taking a seat on one of the empty chairs next to his. I glanced nervously at the door of the headmaster's office, and he followed my gaze.

"He's in a meeting," Robin reassured me, "Won't be out 'til half past."

Nodding, I let my bag drop to the floor and took a seat. For a moment, there was silence. I didn't think that there could be anything more awkward than this. It was like meeting one of your exes again, I thought. We'd once been so close, once known absolutely everything about each other, and then all that had been lost. We were strangers again, but with memories of past intimacy that just wouldn't fade. It left me not knowing how I should act around him. Part of me wanted to hug him and pick up right where we left off, but we'd become such different people in the space of those years that we'd spent apart. Things… just didn't work like that. And then there was the niggling, childish little part of me that was still hurting that he hadn't bothered to keep in touch. Like a paper cut in my heart, it wasn't a bad wound but it still stung.

"Why were you looking for me, then?" Robin asked, jolting me from my reverie. He was watching me out of the corner of his eye, still biting his nail.

"I heard you got into a fight with Guy," I answered quietly.

"Oh, so you've come to tell me off for hitting your boyfriend?" he asked, a scornful edge to his voice. I wasn't so vain as to put it down to jealousy.

"No, actually," I frowned at how quick he was to make assumptions. "I was worried about you. Sheriff said there was blood."

"Only 'cos I spat it at him."

"Oh. Lovely."

He laughed, and a little of the awkwardness melted away.

"So what actually happened, then?" I asked.

He frowned and chewed his bottom lip out of habit, then flinched and seemed to think better of it. "You heard the things they were saying about Much," he said, eventually. When I continued to look to him for an answer, he continued. "It was just stupid stuff. But Much… He gets worked up about that sort of thing. I had to do something."

"Couldn't you have done something that didn't involve punching someone in the face?" I was reproving.

"Worrying about Guy again?" he snapped, becoming defensive under my stare. I rolled my eyes in response.

"Why does everything have to come down to that?" I demanded.

"Because your mates, in case you hadn't noticed, seem to have it in for mine!" he exclaimed, then seemed to realise that our voices had been growing gradually louder and louder, and shot a wary glance at the door next to us.

"Well I don't, all right?" I hissed in response, looking around too, "I only meant that I didn't want you getting into trouble. You're going to get done if you carry on like this."

To my surprise, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, all the fight going out of him in an instant. For the second time in as many minutes he bit his lip and seemed surprised when it actually hurt.

"Don't you think I know that?" he asked tiredly, "I'm in enough trouble as it is. There's no way I'm passing my exams."

"What?" I was genuinely confused. "You're alright. I saw what you got in your last maths test, it was good."

He laughed insincerely. "I haven't got _any _coursework. About five months 'til the exams, much less than that 'til the coursework deadlines and I haven't done any of the work that's meant to take two years."

"You haven't got _anything_?" That was… decidedly not good. Depending on the subject, coursework ranged from about 30 up to 80 of the final grade. In maths, bad coursework generally dropped you a grade, but in other subjects it could mean the difference between a pass and a fail.

"I haven't been to a proper school in nearly three years, Marian," he reminded me, and I suddenly realised what that would mean for his future.

"What… What are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "Fail?"

I scowled at him. "Don't be stupid. I mean… there's still time to get it done. If you think about it, each piece only takes a couple of hours to actually write..."

"And what about the weeks of prep work? The experiments that I haven't done? How am I supposed to write about results I don't have?"

I hesitated.

"I'll help you," I offered. For a moment, Robin just watched me as though sizing me up, gauging whether I was actually being sincere or not. It stung a little, to have him look at me so suspiciously, as though he half suspected that I was just playing a trick on him. I supposed that I something of an enemy by association; all of my friends had made it plain that they were going to make life as difficult for he and his friends as possible. But then he nodded.

"Alright," he held his hand out in a peace offering, grinning slightly. I looked down at it, pretending to be suspicious.

"You're not going to ask me to spit on it, are you?"

He laughed, and we shook hands.

_Truce._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Again, thank you so much to everyone who's been leaving reviews. I hope you enjoy.

_- Come round 10 on sat? x_

_- Make it 12? Cant think b4 then on wknds_

_- K. Cya then x_

I sat on my bed Saturday morning, gazing down at the text message on my phone. Fifteen minutes and he'd be here. In preparation I had the contents of my Geography coursework folder spread out over the desk in front of me. Apart from the technology subjects, and perhaps English, now that I thought of it, Geography was the subject for which coursework took the longest time to complete. It would probably be a good idea to get it out of the way first. Just in case we had time, I'd kept my maths coursework handy too. I'd also got up early to wash my hair, though that had nothing to do with the fact that Robin was coming. Of course not.

"Who did you say was coming round today?" my dad asked, sticking his head around my half open bedroom door. I glanced up, roused from my thoughts.

"Robin," I told him and watched as, predictably, he frowned.

"Who's that?" he sounded suspicious, as he always did when I told him that I wanted to do something with my friends. The only good thing about his protectiveness, I thought, was that it at least showed that he cared.

"One of my old friends from ages ago. Lived in Victoria avenue, remember?" I asked, reassuring him by naming Robin's old street. Naming one of the nicest parts of town would, at least, keep his mind at ease. I just neglected to mention that he was now living in the grimy old block of flats above the parade.

"All right. I'm going for lunch with Richard and a few of his associates. Will you be ok for a few hours?" Richard was dad's boss, the director of a large London based firm.

"Yeah. See you later," I flashed him a reassuring smile, and turned back to going through the pages of results in front of me. A few minutes later I heard the front door slam, and his car left the garage. I glanced at my phone for the time. It had gone twelve.

The doorbell rang ten minutes later, and I crossed to my window to look down into the front garden. Robin was loitering outside the porch, looking both slightly uncomfortable and utterly out of place amongst the perfectly pruned rose bushes that lined the garden path. Grinning, I raced down the stairs, jumped the last three and glanced briefly at my reflection in the mirror in the hall as I opened the front door.

Robin, who had been looking the other way, jumped and turned around as it opened, and flashed me one of his most charming smiles. He was one of those sorts of people who had the odd talent for looking both rakish and completely innocent at the same time.

"I've got the maps," he told me as I stepped back to let him in, "But I dunno what I'm meant to be doing with them. Mr Elwood didn't really say."

"They've got to be colour-coded," I told him, "But I've got a prompt sheet upstairs that says pretty much everything. Come on, I'll give you the results-"

The afternoon was whiled away sitting on my bedroom floor, with maps of the local high streets spread out around us, poring over traffic and pedestrian counts. The previous year every Geography student had been sent out to conduct an experiment so that we could ultimately decide what affect out of town shopping centres had on local businesses, but naturally Robin did not have any of the results to work with.

"The second location had mostly service and convenience shops," I told him, glancing over his shoulder at where he was busily writing out an analysis. "So that means they're probably not getting enough business to support more comparison shops. Say it's evidence that the place is being affected."

"Mhm," he mumbled an affirmative around the pencil in his mouth, frowning in concentration as he read through my coursework. ("It's not _cheating_!" he'd insisted earlier, "It's just… making up for a disadvantage.") His reasoning had made sense, though to be honest I thought he wasn't half bad at it himself. The cheeky git had even had the audacity to pull me up over a spelling error in my evaluation while he read through it, scribbling a version in his own words onto a sheet of lined paper. I'd given him one of my best death-glares for his efforts, but he'd only laughed. Evidently he had become immune to them.

It was oddly pleasant. I alternated positions, between sitting cross-legged on the carpet and hanging upside down off of the edge of my bed, while Robin lay on his stomach on the floor, looking through what I'd written, writing himself and occasionally asking me questions. After a few hours he convinced me that it was time for a break and we raided the kitchen. I convinced him to try my hummus dip (he gagged, but managed not to spit it out when I glared at him) and he put far too much sugar in the tea (it was nice, though). We talked, about school and work and nothing at all. There was no bitching, no sneaking feeling that if I told him a secret it would be all over the school the next day, and we didn't once mention anything important. It felt a little like escapism.

"Thank you," he said to me as he left later that afternoon, when the sky was already darkening and the air had grown cold. For once he didn't sound sarcastic, or as though he might secretly be taking the piss. I smiled.

"That's ok. It was fun."

And I meant it.

Midday on Sunday found me walking along the little parade of shops towards the other end of the estate. It had only been a fifteen minute walk, but the scenery around me had changed drastically since I'd left my front door not long ago. At first the houses had been large and detached, much like my own, and set well back from the road with BMWs and, in one case, even a Lotus Exige parked outside. Then detached the detached houses and bungalows became rows of semi's, council houses with pvc front doors and a Ford Focus parked outside. Then I reached the part of the estate that was now Robin's, and the class changed once again.

There was more graffiti, broken glass and empty cans of supermarket's own brand cider littering the pavements. Blocks of flats domineered the skyline, and the cars had changed too. Now it was battered escorts and old fiestas parked in the road.

I walked uneasily down the alleyway to the side of the chip shop until I came to the doorway that was the entrance to the block of flats above the shops. The doorway was barred, and I could see a concrete staircase stretching up beyond it. The window to my side was made of the special safety glass that didn't shatter, which was lucky because it was already cracked. Feeling more out of place than ever, I quickly looked at the electronic keypad next to the door and pressed the button for number thirty-two. The speaker bleeped as I pushed the button, and a few seconds later there was a hissing, crackling sound as someone picked up.

"Hello?" Robin's voice came out of the speaker.

"It's me."

"Ok. It's on the third floor," he told me, and then there was a buzzing sound as the door unlocked. I pulled it open, and stepped inside. The stairs were dark, even in daylight, and the corridors smelt unpleasantly like a mixture of piss, cigarette smoke and curry. I couldn't imagine anybody having to walk through here every time they left their house, particularly not Robin. I still had memories of garden parties at his house in the summer.

At last I came to number thirty-two. There was no doorbell or knocker, so I just tapped awkwardly on the door with my knuckles. I'd barely had time to withdraw my hand when it swung inwards and Robin's head appeared, peering around the doorframe.

"Hi," I smiled, hefting my bag, "I've got all my science coursework here."

"Yeah," he smiled back, slightly uneasily, and made no move to let me through. I frowned.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked, and there was a sudden flurry of yapping. I looked down in surprise just in time to see a small brown blur squeeze through the gap between door and doorframe and launch itself at my ankles, barking excitedly.

"Oh, sorry!" Robin flung the door open and bent down to grab hold of what I was finally able to identify as a slightly odd looking mongrel, tiny and literally trembling with excitement. Robin straightened up, clutching the little dog firmly in his arms. "Bloody idiot," he complained and I grinned.

"What's he called? Or she?"

"Layth," Robin told me, dryly, "It means lion."

I laughed. "I hope you were being ironic when you named him."

"We found him when we were in Beirut. He just kept following us around, so we kept him," Robin told me, shrugging. I nodded, noticing that he was still standing in the doorway.

"Are you going to let me in, or what?" I asked. He glanced up at me uneasily, and the grin froze on my face as I realised what his problem was. He was nervous about me seeing where he was living now.

"Look, I've got photosynthesis, rates of reaction and electrolysis in here," I said, tapping my bag again, "You're not going to be able to do them on your own, so stop faffing about and let me in.

He frowned, leaning against the doorframe. "Well yeah, but…"

"But what?"

"Maybe there's not much point," he glanced down at his trainers, looking miserable.

"What do you mean?" I asked sharply.

"That I'm not gonna get all this work done. So why bother? It's a waste of your time."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'll decide what is and what isn't a waste of my time, thanks. What do you think you're going to do if you don't get your GCSEs?"

He shrugged. "You don't need GCSEs to join the army."

I froze. "What? So that's what you want to do, is it? That's your career choice?"

"It's what my dad did."

"Yeah, and look what happened to your dad!" The words left my mouth before I'd even thought about what I was saying, and as soon as they had I wished that I could take them back, undo what I'd said. Robin visibly flinched, and his expression darkened in anger.

"No, no, I didn't mean that-"

"Go home," he told me, voice dangerously low.

"I didn't mean that, you know I didn't!" I protested, stepping forwards as he moved to close the door. He stood still, apparently unwilling to risk hurting me by slamming the door on my foot.

"Well what did you mean then?" he spat.

"That I don't want you buggering off and getting killed!" I cried, passionately. The anger faded from his expression, until he just looked vaguely surprised. "You've just come back, I don't want you going away again. I missed you." I finished quietly, and for a long moment we both stood, just staring at each other.

"I… I missed you too," he conceded, eventually. "It's just… I really don't see how I'm going to pass. And if I don't the army's the only thing I can do, it's the only thing I'm good at…"

I shook my head. "But it's not! You're not thick, Robin. You could get into college, study whatever you want, be whatever you want. I know you can."

There was a audible silence, and then he smiled.

"Wanna come in?" he pushed the door open again, stepping back to let me inside. I grinned back at him.

"Yeah," I said, "I do."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thank you, my lovely reviewers. Unfortunately updates may be a little slower from now on because I, like Robin, have deadlines looming and lots of work to be done. But I can promise you that the story will be finished, and I'll get the new chapters up as quickly as I can.

Robin's flat was… different. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, not too bad actually, but looking around gave me the feeling that someone had tried to make the best of a bad job. The place was clean and the walls were freshly painted, but the doors were battered and none of the furniture matched, a far cry from the effortless elegance of his old house. In front of me I could see through into the kitchen, which was cluttered but not unpleasant, and beside me a door stood ajar, affording me a view of the living room. I caught a glimpse of a tall blonde woman, sitting stiffly on the settee, before Robin deftly closed the door. I blinked, surprised, and wondered what he had against me seeing his mother.

"C'mon, my room's this way," Robin told me, still sounding slightly more subdued than usual, and pushed open the door at the end of the hallway. The first thing that hit me as I stepped inside was _green_. Every inch of wallpaper had been painted, not with forest green, not with sea green, but with _acid green_.

"It's very… bright," I remarked, perching myself on the end of his bed. He laughed, rummaging through a pile of school work beside a chest of drawers.

"Want to tell me what exactly we have to do for rates of reaction?" he asked, turning around with a pen and paper. I smiled.

"Course. Well, it's between hydrochloric acid and zinc-"

We spent the best part of the afternoon going over results and theories while I lay across the foot of Robin's bed and he stretched out across the floor, writing and pausing occasionally antagonise me. There were long stretches of silence, but for the music he had thudding away in the background, where he was too engrossed in theory to talk and I lay watching him. This time it was comfortable, rather than awkward.

It was only when my stomach rumbled, loud enough to distract Robin and earn a puzzled glance from Layth, that the silence was broken.

"Hungry, I take it?" he looked amused.

"Just a bit," I admitted. "I haven't had lunch yet."

"Me neither," Robin screwed his face up as he stretched, finally sitting up. I had to grin. "Come on, there's got to be something edible around here." He got to his feet, offering me a hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet, slightly harder than was necessary so that I staggered and almost crashed straight into his chest of drawers.

"Twat," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for him to hear, and he just laughed as he led the way into the kitchen. I perched on one of the chairs at the table, watching as he pulled open first the cupboards and then the fridge in his search for food. In the end, he turned to me with a grimace.

"Might be best if we just go to the chippy instead."

I shrugged. "That's fine by me. The perfect excuse to be unhealthy."

So that was how we came to be leaning against the counter in the King Neptune five minutes later, watching absently as the kebab meat rotated slowly around and around in front of us. I listened absently to the sizzling, steaming sound of chips being fried while Robin tapped his fingers impatiently on the countertop. Bored of the faintly disgusting sight of the kebab meat revolving, I turned to gaze out of the window at the passers by instead. I recognised the group of year nine chavs I'd pushed past the other day loitering outside the off licence. An old man passed by next, carrying a shopping bag with what looked like all of his worldly possessions in it, and then… Oh shit.

I ducked behind Robin, but it was too late, I'd already been spotted. A blonde haired girl had just jumped out of a car, running to the post box with a letter in her hand, and I recognised her at once. Davina, the she-devil incarnate. Sheriff's younger sister, and she'd spotted me buying chips with Robin Locksley. Her meticulously plucked eyebrows shot up as she recognised me, and then she smiled.

That could not be good.

My phone rang that evening. I sat on my bed, staring down at it for a long moment, contemplating throwing it out of the window rather than answering. It was a fairly tempting idea, but I reasoned that the phone was almost new and besides, what harm could a person do me when they were speaking from another building?

"I heard something very interesting about you today," Sheriff told me as I picked up, not bothering to beat around the bush. I swallowed hard, and willed my voice not to shoot up about two octaves out of nerves. I was determined not to let him intimidate me, and that sounds good in theory but it's far easier said than done when you're being confronted by the boy who could make life very difficult indeed if you piss him off.

"Really?" I forced a note of surprise into my voice, "What was that?"

"Just that you've been keeping some very interesting company indeed," there was something vaguely threatening in his voice, a sense of deep-seated disapproval that put me on edge.

"Says who?" I frowned, deliberately appearing puzzled.

"Says my sister, who saw you getting chummy with The Chav this afternoon." That's what Sheriff had taken to calling Robin lately; _The Chav_, complete with capital letters and all.

"Maybe she was mistaken."

"Are you suggesting," Sheriff said slowly, "That my sister is a _liar_?"

"No, of course not," I said quickly, "Just that-"

"Stop digging," the voice on the other end of the line advised me. "I know what you've been doing, you're just making yourself look worse by trying to lie about it."

I kept my mouth shut, seething in silence. Sheriff seemed to take my lack of a response as confirmation that he had won. And, naturally, he wasted no time in gloating.

"Just what will Guy think when he finds out who ditched him for?" he mused, his voice saturated with malicious amusement.

"You haven't told him?" I had to admit, I was surprised. It wasn't like Sheriff to keep information that could ruin a person's reputation to himself.

"Haven't told him _yet_," Sheriff corrected me, sounding quite pleased with himself. "Of course, this is going to get out. Unless, of course, you'll just-"

"No," I interrupted firmly, before he could finish. I was utterly fed up with being controlled, told what I should think and who I could talk to. My reputation and popularity had been so important to me, but I wasn't going to be blackmailed for anything. I didn't even want to hear what Sheriff had in mind.

"Excuse me?" he didn't take kindly to being interrupted.

"I said no. Whatever you've got in mind, whatever you want me to do in return for keeping my reputation and my place in your little gang, you can take it and shove it up your ar-"

"What are you saying?" he asked, and I felt a little flicker of satisfaction at the uncertainty in his voice. Whatever he'd expected to get from me tonight, it certainly wasn't this.

"I'm saying," I said slowly, as though I were trying to explain something to a particularly dim student, "That I don't care what you make of this. It doesn't bother me." That was a lie, really, but it might as well be the truth so long as he believed it.

"Oh Maz, you're going to regret this!" he crowed, "The whole school, everyone in the estate, is going to hear just what a scum-loving little slut you are. Tell me, have you slept with him?"

"Piss off."

I hung up, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I felt at once panicky and enormously empowered. The knowledge that school life was, in all probability, about to become very unpleasant indeed terrified me, but at the same time I knew that I would never again have to go along with Sheriff, pretending to agree and holding my tongue so as not to offend. And that didn't feel like fear at all, it felt like freedom.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in updating! I should, however, have the next chapter up sometime this weekend as it's already in progress. Thank you littlemissmaster, LittleMissSparkles, knacky and X-Kate-X for reviewing the last chapter. And yes, RocMySox, I was thinking of John Barrowman when I wrote that xD

I walked into registration on Monday morning with no small sense of apprehension. I was a few minutes late, having walked the long way to school to avoid passing Guy's house, and everyone else was already in the room, chatting amongst themselves. I stepped through the doorway, and instantly the conversations stopped. I was filled with a terrible sense of awkwardness; there's nothing like walking into a room and knowing that everyone in it was talking about you just the moment before. I looked to the desk where I normally sat, and found Georgia deliberately ignoring me. Guy sat, looking both angry and almost as uncomfortable as I felt. He too would not meet my gaze, but Sheriff seemed to have no such qualms, and grinned unpleasantly up at me as I looked at him. I did the one thing that came naturally to me in such situations; I stuck my nose up.

Trying not to look like I had nowhere to go, I quickly cast around for another place to sit. There was an empty seat next to Safiyah, who had her nose in a book as usual. Gathering my wounded pride, I stalked to the back of the classroom and took the seat. Eventually, the two dozen eyes that had followed my progress turned their attentions elsewhere, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Robin told me what happened."

I jumped, not expecting anyone to talk to me, and looked around to see the usually quiet girl regarding me with interest. Her tone was unreadable; it was impossible to tell what she was thinking, whether she was silently judging me. It made me slightly nervous; I'd always been good at reading people's expressions, but she was a closed book.

"Yeah?" I answered, feigning disinterest until I'd worked out what exactly her intentions were.

She nodded. "It was good of you to help him with his coursework."

"I bet that's not the story that's going 'round though, is it?" I sighed, resting my crossed arms on the desk. I glanced up in time to see her smile. It occurred to me that just last week she'd been in exactly the same situation as I was now.

"Not exactly," she conceded, slightly more gently. "There's a few, all quite interesting. Most of them seem to involve certain favours…"

I grimaced. "Great."

She grinned. "You're apparently not a prostitute though, you just sleep with chavs."

"At least you're making good money out of it," I countered, starting to smile, "I'm just easy."

"You should start charging," she advised me, laughing. I shook my head, grinning, and then I was giggling too, surprised by the rush of affection I felt for this girl who I'd never bothered to talk to before in my life. It was odd. Most friendships are sparked by a smile, a handshake or a formal introduction. I'd never heard of one forged by malicious rumours before, but I that didn't make it any less important.

"I see that the slags have decided to stick together," Sheriff muttered unpleasantly as we left the room together at the end of reg, making our way to maths. As the people around him tittered at the joke, Safiya spun around to face him.

"Oh yes, we've decided to go into business together," she smiled brightly, "Do let us know if you'd like to make an appointment." Sheriff eyed her incredulously as she brightly held her hand to her face, thumb and little finger outstretched in the typical 'call me' gesture. I laughed in surprise as she turned around and walked into our maths classroom, leaving the surprised looking group around the Sheriff behind.

There was more muttering, naturally, as I took a different seat to my usual one with Sheriff and Guy, choosing instead to sit in the front row. As the lesson began there was whispering from behind me, and I knew at once what the current topic of conversation was: me. Djaq glared over her shoulder at the rest of the glass, and Will offered me a tentative smile, but I couldn't help but feel exposed. I knew that old rhyme (_sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me_) as well as anyone, but the truth was it simply wasn't true. I was so used to maintaining my pristine reputation around here that it felt strange and utterly unfamiliar to be sitting there with it in shreds. Then a voice sounded at the door, and I looked up.

"Sorry I'm late," Robin shot one of his most charming smiles at our teacher, who merely scowled in an all-suffering way in response, and gestured for him to take a seat. No doubt the faculty were already well accustomed to all sorts of stories explaining his tardiness that it was nothing new by now.

"Hi," he took the seat next to me, dropping his bag onto the desk. He looked as though he wasn't sure whether to by sympathetic or annoyed on my behalf, and settled for looking somewhat pleased that I was sitting with his mates instead.

I smiled back, "Hi. Sorry I stole your seat."

He shrugged. "S'alright. I'll have to charge though."

"Oh really? And what's the price?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something."

I laughed, earning myself a glare from Mr Harvey. Taking the hint, I quickly shut up and returned my attention back to the problems we were meant to be doing. It quickly became apparent, however, that Robin and his friends had no intention of settling down quietly to do their work. Djaq seemed to be one of those irritating sorts of people who _just gets _things, without having to spend hours practicing, and Robin was good enough to be able to concentrate on other things and still get the work done. Will didn't seem to like the subject much, but the occasional pointer from the girl at his side seemed to be all he needed. As for me, I just decided that I'd spent _years _concentrating in every lesson, I deserved a bit of a break.

We talked about anything and everything; the questions we were meant to be doing, the latest horror flick out at the cinema and, naturally, all sorts of plans of retribution for Sheriff and his gang. I was surprised by how easy they were to talk to; whenever I said something, I was safe in the knowledge that they would never use it against me. It felt a bit odd not to have to second-guess ulterior motives in what everyone was saying; I got the feeling that these were people who I could trust to mean it if they acted as though my friends. In Sheriff's gang you could expect someone to smile sweetly at you even as they stabbed you in the back.

I found myself joining in, laughing along with them. I tried not to notice the reproachful stare that Guy fixed me with as I left the room with them.

Lunchtime found me becoming acquainted with the rest of Robin's little gang; along with Will and Djaq there was his best friend Much, and Allan from my food technology class. There were others too, including just about everyone who'd had their school life made difficult by Sheriff's gang, but they came and went depending on what else was happening elsewhere. The six of us, however, were to be found gathered by the P.E doors.

"We've had an idea," Robin, Will and Allan had announced earlier that afternoon, approaching Djaq, Much and myself as we stood in the queue for the cafeteria. Then they'd led us to this particular entrance, declining to tell us why. Will's blazer pockets had been heavy with tools nicked from the D&T department though, which was slightly worrying.

And now there we were, putting our little plan into action. Sheriff and his gang were hanging about around the corner, outside the sports hall. This was intrinsic to our plan, and so was the fact that all the other entrances into the school were on the other side of the building, which was about a ten minute walk - a bit less if you ran.

"Right. Allan, Much and Marian - you keep a lookout. If you see any teachers or Sheriff's gang coming, you know the signal," Robin told us, naturally stepping into his role as ringleader of the little operation. We nodded, and Allan stuck two fingers into his mouth and blew a short, loud whistle as his confirmation.

"Exactly. Have you got the screwdriver, Will?" Robin turned his attention to our resident D&T expert, who nodded. Grinning slightly at the whole idea of it all, caught up in the buzz that was the implementation of one of the gang's plans, I accompanied Much to keep an eye on Sheriff's gang from our position, surreptitiously leaning against the wall.

"Can you even whistle?" I asked.

He nodded. "I sort of get made the look out a lot," he told me dryly, but his expression was amused rather than bitter.

"Good," I said, putting my hands in my pockets, "'Cause I can't. Reckon I should invest in a whistle?"

"Could be a good idea," he mused, and looked around to where Robin, Will and Djaq were clustered around the door, which was being held ajar while Will worked. A few minutes later Djaq looked up at us and nodded and, smiling slightly to ourselves, we wandered back to the P.E door to admire Will's handiwork.

Robin was standing with his foot in the doorway to prevent the heavy door, which opened by pulling from the outside, from closing. And this was utterly necessary, because where the metal handle had been just a few minutes before there was nothing. Only four little holes, previously occupied by the screws keeping the handle on, remained. The screws and the handle itself had mysteriously disappeared, no traces remaining. Once closed, the door would be impossible to open from the outside.

"That's brilliant," Allan grinned.

Careful not to let the door shut until we'd all gone through it, the six of us quietly slipped inside, and closed the door firmly behind us.

Ten minutes into ICT and there was no sign of Sheriff or any of the people who usually hung around with him. I sat quietly, smiling to my monitor as they were marked in absent, and concerns were expressed. When suddenly the door opened, slamming into the wall and bouncing off again with the force, I didn't look up.

"What d'you mean we've been marked as late? It wasn't our fault!"

"Yeah! Have you _seen _what's happened to the P.E doors?"

I bit my knuckle in a vain attempt to stifle my laughter, and at the same time felt my phone begin to vibrate in my pocket. Stealing a glance at the teacher to find him still engrossed in reprimanding Sheriff's gang, I pulled my phone out and opened the text message. My heart leapt as the name of sender came up: Robin.

_Ave u seen their faces? LOL! Ur lookout skills wer appreciated. Want 2 cum out 2nite?_

I grinned down at my phone, and quickly tapped out a reply

_Love 2 xxx _


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Thank you, littlemissmaster, RocMySox, LittleMissSparkles and SilverStella. Your reviews make me smile

Later that afternoon I got home and quickly changed out of my school uniform, pulling on a pair of jeans and a jumper instead. I checked my homework planner, found out that all I was meant to be doing was revision, and resolved to do it later. Running downstairs, I grabbed a sheet of paper off of the pad by the telephone and hunted for a pen. When, five minutes later, I had finally found one that hadn't run out, I jotted down a quick note for my father.

_Dad,_

_Gone out with friends. Be back before late. Don't worry about tea. _

_See you later!_

_Marian _

_xxx_

I grabbed the bare essentials before I left the house; phone, keys, purse (_Vaseline, mirror, hairbrush…) _and slammed the front door behind me. As I walked down the front path I sighed, looking up to where the moon was just becoming visible in the sky. A few weeks ago it had been far darker than this when I got home from school; evidently the days were already getting longer. The garden smelled of recently mown grass, and I breathed in deeply, immersed in sudden contentment.

"Marian," my voice was spoken coolly in greeting and I started, coming back to reality with a jolt.

"Oh. Hello, Guy," I answered reluctantly, coming face to face with the tall, dark haired boy. He was standing on the pavement on the other side of my front gate, apparently paused in the motion of walking past my house, though I wouldn't put it past him to have been waiting out there in the shadows for me. His expression was unfathomable, and it made me nervous. For a long moment there was silence; he seemed unwilling to say anything else and just stood, regarding me wordlessly.

"You've heard all the stories, then," I continued stiffly, and he nodded, just the once.

"Yeah." His voice was cold.

I sighed, my expression pained. "God, what's Sheriff going to come up with next?"

Guy looked up sharply, and there was something akin to hope in his eyes.

"So it's not true?"

"Does it make any difference? It's what everyone believes, and everyone's already judged me accordingly. Where does truth come into it?" I asked dryly, leaning against the gatepost.

Guy frowned. "But if it's not true then things could still be alright. You could still get your reputation back-"

I laughed humourlessly. "Do you really think I care that much about my reputation?"

Guy just stared at me, uncomprehending. "But _I _care about it-"

"Yes, and that's all you care about, apparently!" I snapped in reply, watching with a sense of detached satisfaction as he flinched slightly at my words. "Tell me, Guy, when was the last time you thought for yourself?"

"What do you mean?" he asked heatedly.

"Sheriff tells you what to think, what to feel, what's acceptable, and you just go along with it!" I cried, "The truth is, if you really liked me you wouldn't care who I'd been seeing."

"Oh, so you have been seeing Robin then?" Guy asked, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"It doesn't matter - it _shouldn't _matter!" I insisted, but Guy just shook his head.

"But it does."

"Why?" I asked, and then, because I'd been so annoyed all day and I was finally, finally getting to speak my mind, I sneered, "Are you jealous? Scared that I like Robin more than you?"

Quick as a flash, Guy's hand came out and caught hold of my wrist. I felt the closed gate pressing into me as he pulled me towards him, too surprised to resist.

"I have liked you," he hissed, "Since the moment we met. Don't you _dare _talk about Locksley to me. _Don't. You. Dare." _His knuckles were white around my arm, and I could feel his fingernails digging into my skin. He seemed unaware of how tightly he was holding me, but for the first time I was physically afraid of him.

"Guy, let go-"

"Your reputation matters to me because I _hate _hearing the things people have been saying-"

"Guy, you're hurting me-!"

"Saying about you and _him_!"

I looked around wildly, wondering whether there was anything I could use to get him off of me, and at that moment there was a loud shout from further down the road. I looked up and, illuminated by the orange glow of a streetlight, there stood Robin, followed closely by his little gang.

"Oi! Gisborne!" he called again, striding purposefully towards us. I looked up at Guy's face and saw as he seemed to come back to himself, dropping my arm as though it were a snake and quickly retreating backwards away from my front gate. I stepped back too, cradling my aching wrist.

"What's going on here?" Robin demanded, reaching us at last. Guy's looked back at me for a moment, wide eyed.

"Guy was just leaving," I said firmly, because it looked as though Robin might punch Guy if he was faced with him for just a moment longer, and I didn't want a fight breaking out in my front garden.

"I didn't- I didn't mean-" Guy stammered, as I looked reproachfully up at him. He looked around, noticing that he was utterly outnumbered by Robin's mates further down the road. He still seemed shocked by the force of his own anger, but faced with Robin's disdainful look he seemed to gather his poise.

"Exactly," he agreed, "I'd rather not associate with chav's slags."

Robin's expression hardened, and Guy turned around to leave.

"You liked who I thought I was," I said quietly, so that only he could hear. "You've never liked me." Guy shot me a look - part anger, hurt and disappointment - and disappeared down the road into the growing dark. I watched him go, shaken and not sure what I should be feeling. There was none of the satisfaction of defying Sheriff. Instead I felt a sweeping sense of pity, of regret for the path that he had chosen, the person he had become. He could have been so much better. In another life, I thought, if there was no Sheriff and he was a stronger man, less easily swayed by power, I might have felt for him.

"Are you alright?" Robin asked quietly, bringing me back to the present - back to this world, this reality, and I nodded as I turned to face him.

"Yeah," I tried to say, but it came out as a squeak and I had to clear my throat and start again, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"He didn't hurt you?" Robin sounded both suspicious and protective. I was simultaneously filled with the urge to fall into his waiting arms, and snap at him for thinking I needed him to protect me. I resisted them both, of course, and just smiled reassuringly at him.

"No. Just grabbed me. I was just surprised, that's all."

"Good," he smiled. And then, slinging an arm around my shoulders, we walked back to where the others were standing a little further down the road, watching us with interest.

"Run away, did he?" Allan snorted as we reached them.

"Tail between his legs," I added, and he laughed.

"Come on," said Much, "Lets go get some chips."

Laughing and talking, arguing and gently teasing each other, we walked across the estate to the chip shop to indulge in the deep fried, the delicious and the deeply unhealthy. Allan had cans of paint in his bag, as usual, and I could tell that Robin was still pissed off about what he'd interrupted. Personally, I was all for forgetting about Guy and Sheriff for the evening, and I chose not to think about what might have happened if Robin had not turned up when he had.

Needless to say, the next morning Guy would wake up to some very interesting graffiti written across the estate.

--------------------------------------------

"Where have you been all evening?" were the words that greeted me as I opened my front door that night. I glanced down of my watch and frowned, puzzled. I wasn't later than usual. In fact, I'd often stayed round Georgia's house far later than this on a school night without any complaints, so why was my dad scowling?

"I left you a note," I answered, confused. I stepped inside and sat down on the stairs to take off my shoes, looking up at Dad as I did so. He was frowning, slightly worried and slightly angry. I wondered what on earth could merit this.

"I had a rather interesting conversation with Maria today," he told me. Suddenly, everything fitted into place. Maria was Guy's mother, and best friends with Amelia Sheriff.

Oh dear.

"Really?" I tried to sound casual, but even I could hear that my voice was higher than usual. Shit.

"Yes." That was my father's dangerously calm voice. At least when he was shouting I knew that I could shout back even louder. When he was calm, that was when things got difficult. There was a pregnant pause. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer.

"And?" I raised my eyebrows and looked up at him, both defiant and quite sure that I was about to get into trouble.

"She told me that you've had a bit of a falling out with your friends."

I snorted. "A _bit_?"

"You want to be careful about the sort of friends you keep." The words were spoken seriously, a warning. "From what I've heard, you've been falling in with the wrong crowd."

"They're not the wrong crowd! They're nice people! Sheriff's being stupid!" I insisted, outraged.

"That's not what I've heard. And if I hear any more, don't think I won't stop you from seeing them."

"I'd like to see you try," I snapped, and ran upstairs. I heard him calling after me but ignored it, slamming my bedroom door shut behind me with quite necessary force. Why was the world filled with such idiots?


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **This one's a bit of an interlude before the action (and, of course, angst) kicks off. Just a bit of silliness, really

Knacky - Thanks, and good luck with your revision!

Shanynde - More Will/Djaq and Allan coming up in forthcoming chapters, I promise!

LittleMissSparkles - Poor Marian indeed. Thank you for your review!

Liz4 - Thank you so much for your lovely review. It's true, the times may change but fathers never do! Hopefully you won't be disappointed by future chapters, because I can guarantee that there will be some nice Will/Djaq-ness coming up.

"So come on then, Marian," Allan urged me, grinning, "Shag, Marry and Cliff - who's it gonna be?"

"Well you get the cliff for a start," I answered, smiling as he groaned dramatically. "I still haven't forgiven you for what you said earlier." Something about my hair and a reference to a woodland creature, actually. It wasn't my fault I'd been rained on this morning.

"I'd marry Much, of course, because then I'd never have to cook in my life," I continue, grinning as he shot me a reproachful look and ruined the effect by smiling.

"And shag?" Will probed, amused.

"She's going to say Djaq, I know it!" Allan exclaimed, and I glared at him, laughing at the same time.

"Why do you call her that, anyway?" I asked, taking the opportunity to avoid answering the question.

"They heard my aunty calling me it, and haven't stopped since," the girl in question grimaced.

"It's because she's secretly a man," Robin told me seriously, and Djaq shrieked in protest and reached out to slap him. While the two were struggling on the floor, Robin trying to disentangle himself from the outraged girl, Much took the opportunity to answer my question.

"Her mum swore blind she was going to be born a boy," he explained, "Had already come up with the name and everything. Then she was a girl and she hadn't thought of a girl's name, so for the first few days everyone just called her Djaq."

"Ah," I hummed, and then looked up as Allan suddenly pointed an accusing finger at me.

"You," he said suspiciously, "Were trying to avoid the question."

I laughed, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. "Okay, you've got me. Shag, wasn't it?"

"Yep," Will confirmed, "You've got to answer."

"Hmm, okay," I agreed, looking around the circle as we sat cross-legged on the floor. "Then I'll say… Robin."

He caught my eye from across the circle and winked, and Allan hooted in triumph.

"Aha, you fancy him!" he cried.

"Do not!" I protested, glaring at him. "And don't say that, you'll only make him more big headed than he already is."

"Oi!" Robin cried, and I smiled sweetly at him.

"Come on, it's Djaq's turn," Will reminded us, before another skirmish could break out. I grinned, turning my attention to Djaq.

"Come on, Marry, Shag and Cliff," I reminded her, watching as she screwed her face up in thought.

"Well I'll Cliff Robin," she decided quickly, grinning at him as he shot her an affronted look.

"It's not supposed to be _that _easy to decide who to cliff!" he protested. I laughed.

"So stop _making_ it so easy," I told him, and watched as he stuck his tongue out at me. Djaq laughed at my remark, and I had the feeling that she was about to make her mind up and answer the question when the bell rang behind us, signalling the end of lunch time and the beginning of lessons. Maths, how fun.

We got up and walked in together, Much and Allan branching off to go to their maths classrooms until it was just me, Robin, Will and Djaq loitering outside the door as we waited for Mr Harvey to come out of his office and unlock it. I deliberately didn't notice as Sheriff's gang approached, carefully avoiding making eye contact with Guy. This had become something of a routine by now; I hung around with my new friends, and did my best to avoid my old. It had been a few weeks since the rumours started, and my confrontation with Guy, and for the most part everything was going well. The rumours still went around, of course, and every week there was a variation - some other chav I was supposed to have slept with, or some other heinous act that I'd done. I'd been surprised, and a little pleased, to find that the stories had stopped bothering me. I seemed to have built up some of Djaq's immunity to malicious stories since I'd become friends with her.

"It seems the latest plan is to terrorise the teachers until they have to grant us study leave to save their own sanity," Djaq confided in me as I sat down next to her a few minutes later.

"Isn't there some new government rule about not giving it to us, though?" I asked, frowning slightly.

She shrugged. "Not yet, I don't think. We really do need it though, and I'm not just saying that because I want a lie in. It's impossible to revise in class!" She gestured around the classroom as evidence, and I had to agree. In the back row, a group of boys were busily folding up paper aeroplanes, while most of the girls were taking the opportunity to gossip. Sheriff's gang were no doubt busy bitching about someone, and Robin and Will… They were conversing in whispers, their heads bent over a sheet of paper. It almost looked as though they were trying to work, but I knew Robin too well and the little grin on his face spoke of a brewing plan. I could only imagine what new havoc the two boys were plotting, though no doubt I'd find out - and be dragged into it - later. Djaq followed my gaze and rolled her eyes.

"I don't even want to know," she said dryly, and I laughed.

"As long as it's not messy," I shrugged, and rested my head on my arms. The classroom was warm and sunny, and I was growing steadily more lethargic.

"It's your birthday soon, isn't it?" I asked dreamily, looking up at where particles of dust whirled and danced in a shaft of sunlight. Djaq nodded.

"Yeah, Friday."

"Know what you're doing?"

"Not really. I know I'm going out for a meal with my family at the weekend, but that's it. I wanted to have friends come over Friday night, but…" she trailed off, wrinkling her nose.

"What?" I asked.

"My mum doesn't think much of the boys, doesn't want them coming round."

I laughed softly. "She's a smart woman, your mum."

Djaq grinned and nodded. "You could come round though, if you wanted. You'd probably be allowed to stay over."

"Okay," I agreed, "I'll bring some DVDs."

"Arranging something?"

I looked around to see Will looking at us curiously. Robin carefully folded up the piece of paper they'd been poring over and shoved it into his blazer pocket, I eyed it curiously as Djaq nodded.

"Yep, my birthday. Sorry, but you lot can't come."

"Why?" Will looked slightly put out.

"Her mum doesn't like you," I put in, grinning as he looked momentarily wounded.

"Ah, is it because of-" Robin began laughingly. Un-amused, Djaq nodded.

"Yeah."

"What?" I asked curiously.

"My mum met Allan," Djaq told me simply. I nodded; enough said.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Thank you for your reviews, they make my day. Now, virtual cookies for whoever can guess what film I was watching before I wrote this chapter xD

Shanynde - Glad you liked that line

Honestgreenpirate - Thank you, I'm pleased it's been a source of amusement.

LittleMissSparkles - Thank you for yet another of your lovely reviews

Outlaw of Sherwood - Thank you, and I will!

Wicked lovely gypsy - Thank you very much and yes, there's _bucket loads _of Robin/Marian to come.

Jesse-suze-fan - Thanks! And don't worry, I'm writing more!

Traditional.Rose - Thank you

"Remind me again why I have to do this," I said, watching Robin with a raised eyebrow as he outlined my part in his latest plans.

"Because it won't look so bad if you're caught!" he insisted, and I laughed sceptically.

"Not bein' funny, but you've always been a bit of a teacher's pet," Allan added, "If it's you everyone will believe it was just an accident."

It was Friday morning at break time, and I was finally discovering what exactly Robin and Will had come up with that day in maths. To be fair, it would be hilarious if pulled off properly, but I wasn't so keen on my task.

"Besides," said Much, "You're the one who knows the password."

"So? I could just tell one of you lot what it is so you can do it!" I protested, looking to Djaq for support. She was diplomatically silent, refusing to pick a side. I looked up, and Robin was watching me, that little smug smile of his on his face.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," he answered, but it was obvious that there was something.

"No, tell me."

"It's just that…" he trailed off, stretching out his answer. I glared at him, and he continued. "You're a bit of a chicken, aren't you?"

"I am not!" I protested. He just smiled condescendingly at me, as though he didn't believe it. "I'm not a chicken," I repeated.

"Oh, of _course _not."

"I'm not!" And when he just looked at me, I scowled. "Fine, I'll do it. Now do you believe me?" And just like that, his whole demeanour changed. He flashed me one of his most beatific grins, and pulled me into a hug.

"Thanks, Marian! I'm gonna be late for D&T but I'll see you later." And with that, he released me and was gone, the boys following his lead and disappearing off to their next lessons. I was left standing with Djaq, suddenly flooded with the realisation that he'd goaded me into doing it so easily. If I got caught it would be all Robin's fault, for having that damned smile that just makes you want to make him happy…

"You fell right into that one, didn't you?" Djaq observed, amused.

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, and stalked off to Geography.

---------------------------------------------------------

An hour later I sat in ICT, feeling something like a secret agent on a particularly important mission. I felt my phone begin to vibrate in my blazer pocket, and glanced around to make sure that the teacher's attention was elsewhere. When I was convinced that Mr Bradley was busily typing away on Facebook, or whatever it was he did in his spare time, I pulled it out and opened the text message.

_Your mission, Jim, should u choose 2 accept it…_

I stifled a giggle as I started reading, though I was careful to memorise the list of websites, carefully found out by Allan the day before, that followed.

_As always, should u b caught or killed we will disavow any knowledge of ur actions. This text will self-destruct in 5 seconds. Good luck!_

_R x_

Rolling my eyes as I stuck my phone back into my pocket, I focused on the task at hand. Our ICT coursework deadline had already come and gone, so we were left to use the lessons for revision now. Most days I just went on revision websites while the others did the same or just read through their class notes, but today I had a task to complete. One that I couldn't do signed into the school system under my own name.

I tilted my monitor to face me, and began to type. Under the username field, I entered 'SheriffJV'. Now for the password… He didn't know, but I'd once watched Sheriff type it in and worked out what it actually was, with the vague idea of using it to check his emails and see what he'd been saying about me. I'd never got around to it, but now I was going to put my knowledge to good use. Well, sort of.

N-O-T-T-S-F-O-R-E-S-T-1

I typed the letters in quickly, and hit the enter key. I held my breath, then released it in a sigh of relief as the password was accepted and Sheriff's settings began to load. I could have guessed the password, really; he'd been a fan of the football club his whole life. I grinned in triumph once everything had loaded, and resisted the urge to just trawl through his sent messages folder in search of gossip.

Quickly, I opened up internet explorer and typed in the address for the revision website most people had been using, under the pretence of catching up on a bit of science. Then I opened up another window, and reduced it down as small as it would go, glancing around nervously. It was a good thing that I couldn't sit at my old place with Sheriff's gang anymore, because it really wouldn't be a good idea for anyone to see the website addresses that I was typing in, the website addresses that would now be stored in Sheriff's history…

"Did you do it?"

I glanced over my shoulder as I took my seat in the food technology classroom an hour later, to find Allan and Much both watching me expectantly. I smiled.

"Sorted," I told them primly, pulling out my pencil case and some paper, glancing back again to find them both grinning triumphantly. "Though I'm slightly concerned," I added.

Much frowned. "Why?" he asked, as though worried that something had done wrong with the plan. Had the man no faith?

"I want to know how on earth Allan knew those websites!" I watched the look of relief, and then downright amusement play across Much's features as he glanced at the boy sitting next to him.

"It's a good point," he mused, "How _did _you know?"

Allan looked momentarily like a deer caught in headlights.

"Don't you get all the adverts for them in your junk mail folder?" he asked, "Or is it just me getting sent all the links?"

I shrugged. "I think everyone gets sent them. We just don't look at emails that have a big XXX as the subject, Allan."

He grinned, looking slightly sheepish.

"Anyway," Much interrupted, "When do you think the history will get checked?"

"Next time he uses the internet in a lesson, probably," I guessed, "The guys up in I.T are always checking up on what you're doing."

"Well what has he got last?" Much asked.

"Err… Science, I think."

"Aha!" Allan crowed, "Mr Smith always gets his class on the computers. He's bound to."

"This," I conceded, "Could be funny."

The rest of the lesson was spent feverishly scribbling down notes from the board, and praying to whichever deity that chose to listen that I could remember all the different terms and definitions for my exam. At last, the bell for lunch rang and Much, Allan and I rejoined the rest of the group on the field which, for once, was dry enough to sit on. Djaq had pulled out her science book to settle a dispute with Robin about the differences between mRNA and tRNA which they had been disagreeing over since the beginning of lunch, while Will and I just watched the developing argument with almost identical expressions of dismay. Much had evidently decided that he was not interested, and seemed quite content to sit and eat his lunch. Allan, meanwhile, had swiped a worksheet from Djaq's book and was discreetly copying down the answers onto a piece of paper.

"Oi!" I cried, noticing. He jumped and looked up.

"What?"

"You filthy cheater," I accused good-humouredly, and laughed as Djaq twisted around to look at him, realising what he was doing at last.

"You let Will copy your maths homework the other day," Allan complained as she pulled the worksheet from his hand, and leaned back to wave it just out of his grasp.

"That's true," Much piped up, his words muffled through a mouthful of sandwich. "In fact, you're _always _lending him your stuff."

"Not so he can just copy it all. He just uses it to check his answers, don't you?" Djaq corrected, glancing at Will, who appeared slightly uncomfortable.

"Yeah…" he agreed quickly.

I grinned, glancing between the two of them. "Of course that's it," I agreed innocently.

Djaq raised her eyebrows. "You can't talk! Just who was it spending all her free time a few weeks ago round Robin's house doing his coursework with him, hmm?"

"Yeah, but there was a good reason for that. He didn't have any of it done," I protested. Allan waved a hand dismissively.

"Oh give it up, everyone knows Marian and Robin have been mooning over each other since primary school. What's your excuse?" he raised his eyebrows at Will and Djaq, looking amused as they both struggled to answer. Much sniggered into his sandwich, and I lay back against my bag to watch the inevitable bantering unfold.

"I have so not been mooning over you," I muttered into Robin's ear as we made our way to science at the end of lunch.

"Course not," he agreed hastily, holding the door to the science corridor open for me with his foot, "Allan doesn't know what he's talking about."

There's this river somewhere in Egypt, I don't know whether you've heard of it? It's called De Nile…


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Well, this is a _monster _of a chapter. Long and quite fluffy, to make up for the next couple of chapters which I can safely say will be quite a lot of angst (but also shippiness, because I can't _not_ write relationships). Enjoy!

LittleMissSparkles - Thank you.

Littlemissmaster- Of course they do. They just haven't accepted it yet

Kate - It's such a catchy tune, isn't it? Thank you very much!

Dad wasn't too happy about me going out, yet again, with one of what he liked to call, somewhat contemptuously, "those new friends of yours". It wasn't like him to want to argue with me; in fact, he'd always had a history of being particularly lenient with me. I'd almost gotten away with murder in the past, but my father was often unable to see past the politics of the situation. I genuinely don't think that he understood how I could favour Robin and his mates (a bit of a rag-tag bunch, let's be honest) over my old friends, who were good with parents and always turned out immaculately. He still didn't have the heart to actually put his foot down, though, and tell me that I couldn't go to Djaq's. He just mumbled and frowned as I walked out of the door, making his disapproval quite clear. I did my best to ignore it.

Djaq's family had a maisonette not far from where Robin lived, and it didn't take all that long to walk there. When, finally, I had hauled my overnight bag up the flight of concrete stairs to the first floor, it was Djaq's aunt who opened the door. She was a funny woman, in both meanings of the word, diminutive and as wide as she was tall.

"Hi," I greeted her, doing my best to appear polite and as unlike Allan and the boys as possible, "I'm Marian, Djaq's friend-"

And before I knew it I was being ushered inside, into a warm and bright hallway that smelt quite strongly, and inexplicably, of cranberries. I caught a glimpse of a small kitchen filled with people - Djaq's mother, and others who I supposed could be cousins or other relations, and then there was a voice from above me.

"Hi," Djaq appeared at the top of the stairs, pausing to stick her tongue out at one of the little boys who curiously stuck their head around the kitchen door.

"Just bring your stuff up to my room," she advised me, leading the way up the stairs and into the first doorway on the right. Her room was small but bright, upholstered in shades of orange and pink that somehow managed not to clash. "Try not to be scared of my family," she added, grinning, "Some of them don't speak English that well so just smile and nod, yeah?"

"Smile and nod, got it," I confirmed, dropping my bag on her carpet and bending down to rummage through it. "Alright then, birthday girl. Time to open your present, and you'd better like it!"

"Is that a threat?" she asked, amused, and took the neatly wrapped little package I handed her.

"Oh yeah," I said, "Actually, I had no idea what to get you, but I thought I'd better give you something. Birthdays aren't birthdays without bad presents."

"You didn't have to," Djaq protested, and ripped open the wrapping paper to expose the brightly coloured jewellery inside. Thank God for Claire's Accessories; I don't know what I'd do on birthdays without that place. She looked up, grinning, "Thanks!"

"No problemo," I sat down, pulling out a stack of DVDs. Djaq raised her eyebrows, glancing at my not particularly large bag.

"Is that out of Mary Poppins, or something?"

"Yeah," I agreed cheerfully, "I've got everything in here. So what do you want to watch? I've got everything from bad high school movies to chick flicks to horror."

"Oh, it's got to be the horror," she grinned.

I'd done the whole girly sleepover thing hundreds of times, but I couldn't help but feel more relaxed, able to enjoy myself more than usual without worrying that someone would take pictures of me while I was asleep and put them up all around the school. Luckily I'd never been on the receiving end of that particular practical joke, but I'd seen it happen to other girls. There were conventions to follow, too; so many of them. You were judged on everything from what pyjamas you wore to what gossip you had on the others. This, though… This was just sitting up, trying not to shit myself while I watched scary films with a mate. There was pizza and crisps, chocolate and coke (but not a drop of alcohol in the house) and, eventually, girl talk.

"You know what?" I said suddenly, remembering. Djaq looked up from where she was hanging off of the edge of her bed, eyeing me curiously.

"What?"

"The other day. You never answered."

She looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Marry, Shag and Cliff," I clarified, "You never said who you'd marry or shag. I can't believe you got away with that until now."

"Oh," she grinned. "I suppose you're not going to leave me alone now until I answer?"

"Naturally."

"Ha, ok…" she paused, "If I answer truthfully, you promise you won't tell? Or laugh?"

"I solemnly swear," I promised, sitting up momentarily to cross my heart.

"Okay. Well then, I'd shag… Allan."

"No way! You fancy him?"

She pulled a face. "You didn't let me finish. He's alright, but I don't actually fancy him. He's just one those people you can really see having one-night stands, you know?"

I sat up, watching her intently. "So who would you marry, then?"

She flopped back onto her bed. "You're going to laugh!"

"I won't," I promised.

She sighed. "All right, then. I'd marry… Will."

"Really?" I cried, and she glared at me from where she lay.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm not taking the piss," I swore. "But honestly, why don't you tell him? It is so _completely_ obvious that the two of you like each other."

"I… I don't know, really." Uncharacteristically, Djaq didn't have a retort. "Mum wouldn't like it, though. She's been trying to set me up with my cousin's friend Omar for weeks."

I pulled a face, and now it was me who didn't know what to say. I'd always been aware of Djaq's religion, just like I'd always been aware that some people had blue eyes and some people had brown hair. It wasn't something I'd ever thought about before, but now I was faced with her predicament and I had no idea how to respond.

"Is it really… Really that much of a big deal to your family?"

"Well they're not into honour killings and that sort of thing, if that's what you mean," Djaq told me, laughing humourlessly. "No, it's not that. They wouldn't be angry, I don't think. They'd just be disappointed and I think that's worse, somehow."

We were silent for a moment, just watching the film.

"It's silly, isn't it?" I said quietly. Djaq looked up.

"What is?"

"All these ideas about what's acceptable and what isn't. In religion, in school, in life in general. All the rules…"

She smiled. "They seem to disappear with the boys, don't they?"

"Yeah," I agreed slowly, and wondered whether that wasn't the reason the two of us loved being with them so much. With them, it didn't matter who you were, it was what you did that they counted. They were slow to judge and when they did it was on actions, not status. To us, having always been caught up with rules, regulations and so many conventions, it was a sort of freedom.

And of course, it was fun.

It was the next morning, when both Djaq and I woke up later than usual and bleary-eyed from talking through much of the night, that we found out what new fun the boys had planned for us. My phone rang, the shrill sound of the ringtone making me flinch as I lay on my blow up bed, and I answered it Robin's all too cheerful voice. He had no right to be so bright this early in the morning.

"Hey, Marian. You're at Djaq's house, right?"

"Mmm," I groaned into my mobile, a sound that Robin apparently took for a 'yes'.

"Good, you can tell her too while you're there. Allan's got tickets to Upload, do you want to come?"

"What, that thing at the civic?" I asked, sitting up and trying to think.

"Yeah. We're going, it'll be funny. They've got Enter Shikari's DJ there," he added, as though that might convince me. I glanced at Djaq, reaching out to nudge her with my foot. She stirred, mumbling something under her breath, and then looked up as I persisted.

"What?" she mumbled, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Upload?" I asked. She blinked, then nodded.

"Djaq said yeah," I told Robin, Wait, isn't it an all-day thing?"

"Yeah, it's 12 'til 12," he sounded amused, "That means you have to get up if you want to come. It's fifteen quid entry on the door but Allan's got the tickets for a tenner if you're interested."

"You can count us in," I told him.

"Ok. We'll see you at the parade at half eleven, near the chippy, alright?"

"Alright. See you later."

I put my phone down and sat up properly, combing my hair out of my eyes with my fingers, and looked across at Djaq.

"Come on, lazybones," I trilled, grinning at her. "Get up, we're going to the civic."

There was much grumbling about the time as we both staggered out of bed and set about getting ready. I could only be thankful that I'd brought a decent spare pair of clothes with my last night, because I didn't particularly fancy walking all the way back to my house, only to have to retrace my steps to meet the others to walk to the civic hall.

As always, it took some time to get ready and we scrambled around, getting in each other's way as we hurried to brush our teeth and locate misplaced mascaras, and I was still sorting out my hair when Djaq perched herself on the edge of her bed, ready and waiting. I couldn't help it if all she needed to do was run some wax through hers to be ready; mine was considerably longer, with the tendency to get tangled easily, so I just stuck my tongue out at her as she glanced obviously at her watch.

The boys were already there, leaning against the railings outside the chip shop in the little parade of shops when Djaq and I turned up, only a few minutes late. I was surprised; this must have been the first time that they'd actually turned up on time or early for anything. Normally it was they who were late. Evidently Upload was something they were looking forwards to. It had been held a few times before, I was sure, but I'd never been. It wasn't the sort of thing that Sheriff and his gang went to, not their type of music or their scene, and therefore not the sort of thing that was appropriate for me to go to before. Now, though, I was going to do whatever the hell I wanted.

We were searched, briefly, on the door. Either the security people were only interested in looking for weapons of any kind or they were just doing a particularly bad job, because as we stepped through into the lobby of the civic hall Allan leaned over and muttered something into my ear.

"I've brought some JD," he told me, and I glanced up at him in surprise.

"Where on earth were you keeping that?"

He just winked and said nothing, leaving me to speculate. Then Robin was grabbing my hand, pulling me into the main hall and suddenly I was surrounded by people. It was metal mostly, blaring out of the speakers and making the floor vibrate. My chest was vibrating too; I could feel the pumping of the music travelling through me, and the energy in the room was infectious.

"Just stay out of the mosh pit, yeah?" Robin warned me, leaning over to speak into my ear.

I laughed, "Aww, and I was so looking forward to getting punched in the face," I answered sarcastically, and he just pulled a face in reply. Suddenly, Allan took off and disappeared into the crowd and I blinked, surprised, unable to make out what he'd said over the sound of the music and the crowd. I glanced at Much, mouthing a question. He couldn't have been able to make it out very well, but he seemed to guess what I was asking.

"Emo girls in the mosh pit," he explained, leaning over to shout the words close to my ear. Robin looked around as Much spoke, groaning.

"Is that what he said?" he asked, sounding resigned. Much nodded.

"'Fraid so."

"I'm going after him," Robin announced, and I was left to watch in surprise, standing with Will, Much and Djaq, as he too slipped into the crowd.

"Where's he going?" I asked, turning to them.

"Allan's gonna break the rules," Much sighed, looking aggrieved and amused at the same time.

"What?"

"He's going to cop a feel," Will clarified, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he was trying desperately to look disapproving, but thought the situation was too funny to manage it. "And that's one of the unwritten rules of the mosh pit - you get caught doing it, you get beaten up."

"He hasn't learnt from last time," Djaq added dryly, checking to make sure that her bag was safely over her shoulder. Then she looked up and grinned at Will, suddenly looking mischievous. He raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"You," she told him, "Are going to dance. Come on!" And she grabbed his arm, dragging him into the crowd. He put on a show of resisting, but she was much shorter than him and it was obvious that she wouldn't be able to pull him anywhere if he wasn't willing. I laughed, turning to look at much.

"Are you dancing, then?" I asked, grinning as his eyes widened.

"I'm gonna go get a drink," he told me," Are you coming?"

I nodded, following him over to the bar. There was no chance that they'd serve us this early in the day, and I hadn't come to get pissed anyway, so we just ordered Red Bull, with the vague idea that we'd probably need to be hyperactive just to get through twelve hours here. Then, drinks in hand, we set about finding somewhere to sit, because I really didn't fancy standing in the crowd and getting my drink poured all down my front.

I was just contemplating going to look for Robin when I was suddenly aware of someone beside me and then there we was, sinking into the seat next to mine. He looked hot and ruffled, and I wondered what on earth he'd been doing, but decided to take pity on him anyway, offering him my drink. He grinned, taking a swig.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, then added, sounding amused "I just had to pull Allan out from under about five moshers. Unfortunately for him, they tend to hit first and listen to excuses later."

I snorted, taking my drink back once he'd had another mouthful, and ignored Much's raised eyebrows. There was nothing wrong with sharing a drink between friends. I looked up at the crowd of people, jumping up and down in time with the music, and turned to whisper in Robin's ear, struck with a sudden idea.

"I think," I murmured, "That we should set Much up."

Robin raised his eyebrows, but didn't object to the idea. "With who?"

I nodded my head towards a group of girls who'd obviously come together, gathered in a circle and laughing as they danced. Robin just glanced at me for clarification.

"The blonde one," I told him, "Wearing the orange top. She's in my food tech class, they work with the same oven in practical lessons."

"Alright then," Robin agreed and stood up, grinning down at his friend, who had been regarding our whispered conversation with suspicion. "Come on, Much. We're going to dance!"

"No we're bloody well not!" Much cried, as Robin pulled him to his feet, eyeing Robin incredulously. I doubled over, laughing.

"Not the two of you together," I cried, grabbing one of his hands and together Robin and I coerced him onto the dance floor. "Come on, lets go and talk to Eve, shall we?"

"Oh, alright," he conceded as he made our way over to the group of girls. They greeted us quite cheerfully, apparently caught up in the spirit of the event, and naturally they all took to Robin at once. Suppressing a twinge of something that I was adamant was _not _jealousy, I took Much's hands and grinned at his frightened look as a new song started up and everyone began to move again in time with the music. Sharing a glance with Robin who was with Eve, saying something to her that I couldn't hear over the sound of the music, we swapped dance partners. Much shot me a wide-eyed look as he suddenly found himself with an armful of giggling Eve, apparently surprised but not displeased with the developing situation.

"See you later, Much," I said brightly, backing away with Robin.

"What? You're not just going to _leave _me?" he asked, gesturing at the group of girls he'd suddenly found himself in the middle of. Robin just gave him a cheerful little wave, and before he could protest we disappeared further into the crowd, laughing.

"That was probably cruel," I reprimanded Robin a moment later, breathless with laughter. "Did you see his face?"

"Cruel?" His eyebrows shot up. "With the company we left him in? That's bloody kind if you ask me! Laura Glover's skirt is so short you can see-"

"Alright, alright!" I swatted at his arm and he shut up, grinning.

"What, are you jealous?" he asked, grinning as he leaned forwards to tease me. I stuck my tongue out at him, and couldn't help but laugh as he went cross-eyed to look at my mouth.

"I'm not jealous," I reprimanded, leaning against him. "It's just not _proper_ to be… um… talking about young ladies' skirts and certain anatomical features that way. My innocent ears couldn't stand it."

"I'm sure your ears are far from innocent," he grinned, his eyes so close to mine now that they were difficult to focus on, and I was probably going cross-eyed now too. "I heard you the other day when you dropped those books on your foot."

"That was just an aural illusion," I protested, and God, when had he gotten so close? I could have counted all of his eyelashes, made out every single freckle on his face. Or, if I tilted my face forwards just a fraction, my lips would meet his…

"Marian! Hey… Oh, sorry! Did I interrupt anything?"

And then there was Djaq standing there, with Will in tow, looking intensely awkward as they took our position. At once I sprang back and he relinquished the hold he'd had on my arms, pulling apart like a pair of naughty children.

"Didn't interrupt a thing," Robin said breezily, letting his arms fall to his sides.

"We were just having a debate," I added, at Djaq's unconvinced look. "About skirts. And ears…"

"Riight," Djaq shared an altogether too knowing glance with Will, and I quickly decided that a change of subject was in order.

"Well come on then," I said, grabbing Djaq's hand and grinning, "Are you going to dance with us or what?" The girl grinned back and laughingly took my hand, moving my arm up and down in time to the music. Time and songs passed in a blur of movement, heat and pounding noise, singing along when I heard a song that I liked, and giggling as Robin obligingly let Djaq twirl him around, only to tumble into Will.

"Are you determined to start more rumours?" he asked as Will was obliged to catch him. He shot a grin at his friend, removing his weight from Will's lanky form.

"Oh, everyone gets off with everyone else at this sort of thing anyway, it's not like it would be that unusual," Djaq quipped, probably quite truthfully, in reply.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to go and get a drink," Robin said, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I'll go with you," I offered, hot and thirsty myself. He took my hand as we pushed our way through the crowd of people dancing and milling around, just so we didn't get separated. Not for the first time, I wished that I was just a couple of inches taller, so that I could see over the crowd. I was wearing heels as it was, and yet still seemed to be shorter than the majority of the people there. It was infuriating. At last we managed to force our way through to the bar, where I was surprised to find that Robin could get served when he ordered a pint. At this point, though, I rather thought that the barman had given up and just wanted to go home. I couldn't blame him, really; it was starting to get late.

"And what'll your girlfriend have?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes with a hand sticky with spilled drinks. I glanced sharply at Robin, who apparently couldn't be bothered to correct him.

"Uh… I'll just have a Smirnoff Ice," I decided, saying the first drink that came into my head that I thought I could actually stomach. Once we'd paid I made a beeline for the seats lining the wall of the hall and plonked myself down, sighing in relief. Robin shot me a quizzical look as he took the seat next to mine. "My feet hurt," I explained.

"Why'd you wear those shoes then?" he asked, ever practical.

"Because I _like _them," I answered, and was about of accuse him of just not understanding fashion when I caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd and choked on my drink. "Is that _Allan_ with Susie Monroe?"

Robin looked up, following the direction that I was looking in, and nodded. "Yeah."

"The two look like they're attached at the lips!" I observed, tilting my head slightly, "And… other erogenous zones."

"Hmm." He squinted speculatively, then apparently decided that he'd seen enough and looked elsewhere. I was just taking another swig of my drink when he made an amused sound, low in his throat. Immediately I lowered the bottle from my lips, shooting him a questioning look. He gestured with his glass to something to my right, and I followed his gaze curiously.

"Jesus!"

"They are a bit close, aren't they?" Robin mused. "I know _she _can't be plastered, but do you think he is?"

I observed the two objects of our scrutiny for a moment as Djaq spoke, leaning in close to Will's ear to tell him something that she obviously found amusing, because a moment later she collapsed in a fit of giggles, using his shoulder to keep herself upright. The poor boy seemed bemused by whatever she'd just shared with him, but his expression seemed far too delighted to be normal to have a laughing girl hanging off of his arm, and he grinned down at her fondly.

"They've been together all day. You think there's something going on?" I wondered. I felt Robin shrug beside me.

"If there is, then it's been long enough coming."

I nodded, yawning widely. Between the frankly quite terrifying film I'd watched last night and Djaq's capability to tell funny anecdotes well into the early hours of the morning, I hadn't gotten much sleep and it was starting to show. I glanced at my watch, wondering what the time was, and Robin noticed my movement.

"You alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired. Actually, I think I might not stay until midnight. My Dad will be annoyed enough as it is without me waking him up when I come in."

"I'll walk you home if you want," Robin offered, putting down his glass and stretching.

I blinked, surprised. "No, you don't have to leave yet, there's still a little while until this finishes-"

He flashed me a grin. "It's no problem. I was gonna go soon anyway, see my mum." The grin faded a little at that, and I frowned curiously.

"What do you mean, see her?"

"She's just been alone all day, that's all," he shrugged, "She could probably just use a chat with someone before she goes to bed."

I nodded, accepting his offer. "Thanks. I'll just grab my coat-"

"Your mum is okay, isn't she?" I asked a few minutes later as he were leaving the civic hall. I'd put my jacket on, and he'd just pulled on his favourite hoodie over the t-shirt he'd been wearing inside. I glanced sideway at him and noticed him frown, just slightly, at my question.

"She's fine," he said shortly.

"It's just…" I hesitated at the shuttered look on Robin's face, aware that he was reticent to have this conversation, but I couldn't help myself, "Just that she hasn't been out much since you moved back, has she? Nobody's ever really seen her around…"

"I said she's fine," Robin snapped, a tone of finality to his voice. I let the matter drop as we continued to walk down dark, quiet streets, unwilling to start an argument with him. He was walking fast, and after a little while I found that I couldn't keep up, couldn't walk as fast as him on aching feet.

"Hold on a minute," I told him, pausing to lean against a brick wall. Bending over, I undid the buckles on my shoes and breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of them, the cool pavement soothing to painful soles. Robin just looked down at my stocking-ed toes incredulously.

"You're not going to walk around barefoot?"

I pulled a face. "I'm not going to be able to make it otherwise. I can barely walk in these things," I gestured towards him with the offending pair of high heels. He continued to eye me doubtfully.

"There's all glass on the pavement though," he protested, "You'll step on some and get AIDS or something."

I grimaced, and took a few steps along beside him. "Just tell me where there's any glass, then."

"Well there's some there. And there. And there. Basically, don't tread anywhere," he told me, then turned to face me, grinning slightly. "Right. There's nothing else for it…"

"What?" I asked nervously, eyeing the look on his face with some trepidation.

"I'm not having you shredding up your feet, so there's only one solution," he told me innocently, and my eyes widened as I guessed what he was about to do.

"No, no! Don't bother, my feet will be fine-!" I answered hastily, holding my hands up in supplication and backing away. He just grinned and grabbed me around the middle. I shrieked in complaint as he threw me over his shoulder, hefting me into a fireman's carry.

"This is beyond undignified," I complained, as he started to walk. He just laughed. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You don't give a damn about my poor feet really, you just wanted to _humiliate _me."

"By dangling you over my shoulder," he agreed, then added in a teasing voice, "God, you're heavy."

"Bastard!" I would have hit him, if I hadn't been worried that he'd drop me if I did.

He put me down as we reached my front gate, and I hugged him goodbye before hurrying up the garden path. I pulled my keys out of my bag, wondering if my father would already be in bed, in which case I could just go up to my room quietly without disturbing him. As soon as the thought had occurred, however, the door opened and there he stood, silhouetted by the glow of the porch light.

"Marian," he greeted me sternly, then looked down and frowned in surprise, "Where are your shoes?"

Needless to say, I wasn't allowed out again for the duration of the weekend.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **I apologise in advance for the ending of this chapter. Your only consolation is that I've already almost finished the next part, so there won't be much of a wait to find out what's going on

Maths kid - Your wish is my command! More Robin/Marian fluff coming up, if not in this chapter then in the next.

Littlemissmaster - Thanks, I'm glad you liked it.

LittleMissSparkles - They are indeed

Blackfishy - Thank you very much. Disapproving of your friends is what dads are for!

Kate - There will definitely be more of Marian and her father. I'm glad you think it's interesting, and thank you for a lovely review.

Amitai - Thank you for a hugely complimentary review ) I'm so glad you think that the adaptation and first-person perspective works. It's so encouraging.

It was with a towering temper that I walked into school on Monday morning, after a weekend of my father's nagging disapproval and fruitless attempts to persuade me to reconcile with my old crowd. He was so sure that he knew what was best for me, but I was sick of people telling me what to do. I threw my bag down onto my desk in registration, and Djaq looked up in surprise as I slumped into my seat, head in hands.

"Shh," she warned me, before I could start a conversation, "There's something going on." I looked up as she gestured towards the front of the classroom, where my form tutor and the deputy head were conversing in whispers. As I watched, the deputy head turned and called Sheriff over from where he was sitting with Guy. I raised my eyebrows, sharing a meaningful glance with Djaq. It would seem, perhaps, that our plan from last Friday was finally coming to fruition.

I couldn't hear what was being said, because all three were being careful not to be overheard, but Sheriff's expression flickered between surprise and outrage as both teachers spoke to him, their expressions grave. Beside me Djaq breathed out a sigh shaky with suppressed laughter, and I bit my knuckles to avoid giving myself away.

"You understand that we'll have to contact your parents about this," I heard the deputy head muttering seriously as she guided Sheriff out of the room.

"But it wasn't me!" Sheriff was protesting, his face growing redder and redder by the minute, out of anger or embarrassment or both. I glanced at Djaq and she grinned at me, delighted. We were still giggling about it when we sat down next to Robin and Will in maths five minutes later. Will frowned, apparently bemused by our behaviour.

"What?"

"Sheriff's parents," I answered in a sing-song voice, drawing the syllables out to keep the boys in suspense, "Are about to get a very interesting phone call."

Robin suddenly grinned. "You mean his history's been checked?"

"Yep," I answered, mirroring his amused expression, "In a few minutes, his parents are going to be told that the school is concerned about their son's internet habits."

Will gave a snort of laughter and Djaq looked at him, wide-eyed and smiling.

"And by the end of the day," she added, "It'll be all over the estate that Sheriff was caught looking at gay porn on the school computers."

"Slightly more interesting than the stories he spread about Much, don't you think?" Robin commented cheerfully, and I laughed, earning myself a glare from Mr Harvey. Obligingly, I shut up and glanced down at my revision notes. The exams weren't far away at all now, and I was starting to feel nervous about them. But not nervous enough to prevent me from joining in the conversation the others were currently having, regarding eggs, slingshots and the school's clock tower. Plans for the last day of lessons before we were released on study leave, I assumed.

"How high up do you reckon we'd be able to chuck the things?" Robin was asking of Will, when the classroom door swung open and in burst a mousy haired, bespectacled woman, one of the school's secretaries. I looked up curiously as she walked towards Mr Harvey's desk, looking slightly apprehensive. Secretaries never usually left the reception, so what was she doing here?

"Sorry for the interruption," she apologised to Mr Harvey and then, much to my confusion, glanced at the front row where I was sitting. "But I need Mr Locksley."

Mr Harvey blinked, apparently reluctant to let one of his victims - ah, I mean students - escape. "Very well," he conceded, "Robin - go on."

I glanced at Robin, wondering whether he knew what was going on, but he just shot me a nonplussed look and stood up.

"Bring your belongings," the secretary added, and he frowned slightly.

"I haven't done anything-" he protested.

"You're not in any trouble, you just need to come with me," the secretary reassured him, giving him little choice but to follow her out of the room as she swept out into the corridor. My eyes followed him in concern as he left the room and he glanced back at me for a moment as he shut the door behind him. At once, I turned to Djaq and Will.

"You don't think it's anything to do with what we did to Sheriff?" I asked them in a whisper, worried. Will shrugged.

"There's no way to trace it back to us. Even if Sheriff's accused Robin, he's got no proof," he reassured me, but he too looked concerned.

Our worry was only heightened when Robin did not turn up at break, and a confused Much informed me that he'd not been in second lesson, either. I looked out for him all day, even taking the opportunity to peer into the headmaster and deputy head's office every time I walked past on my way to lessons, but there was no sign at all of Robin. At lunch time I sat on the field with the others, trying to phone him, but he did not pick up. It was though he had simply disappeared.

That evening I sat on my bed, half-heartedly reading through my revision books and surrounded by a multitude of post-it notes all displaying important facts and figures that I had to remember. Dad had brought up a bowl of ice-cream earlier, perhaps in an attempt to win back my affections after the weekend, but I was too distracted to really appreciate it and he appeared to take this for a sign that I was still angry at him and resolved to leave me alone after that. As a result I was simply sitting cross-legged on my purple duvet, my mobile phone in my lap. Every minute or two I pressed redial, no longer really expecting my calls to be answered. I'd been doing the same with for half an hour, and Robin was resolutely not picking up. After getting through to voicemail yet again, I kicked my phone off of the bed in frustration. What on earth was going on?

I thought better of my actions a moment later, and scrabbled to pick it up again, quickly checking it for dents or scratches. Fortunately, it seemed to be unharmed by its little stint on the floor, and I opened up my phone book. Instead of calling Robin again, this time I tried Much. He picked up almost at once.

"Hello?"

"Much!" I cried, relieved that he, at least, was answering, "It's me."

"Yeah, I noticed. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I answered, then hesitated, "Have you heard anything from Robin?"

"I got a text from him about half an hour ago," he told me, "But it didn't say much. I texted him and asked if he was alright, or should I call the police to get a search party out for him. He replied and just said "I'm ok." That was it, and he hasn't replied again or picked up his phone. I don't know what's going on."

He sounded harassed and worried, and I hastened to try and reassure him.

"Well he can't be in much trouble or he wouldn't have replied," I told him, wondering who I was trying to convince - Much, or myself. "Look, I'll keep trying to ring him. If I hear from him I'll let you know, ok?"

"Ok," Much agreed miserably, and I heard the doorbell ringing from downstairs.

"Sorry, I've got to go. Let me know if you find anything out. See you!" I said quickly, and hung up. I went out onto the landing, glancing down the stairs into the hallway. I could hear the radio on in the kitchen, where my father was only now eating his tea, having come home late from work.

"Someone at the door!" I called down, hoping that he'd hear me and answer it so that I wouldn't have to. I just wanted to try Robin's number again. There was no reply, no obliging footsteps from my father, and I sighed in frustration, running downstairs to answer it. No doubt it would be a friend of my father's, a business associate from work or one of the other parents he got along with from down the road. Quickly combing down with my fingers so as to look presentable, I opened the door.

Robin was standing on the doorstep.

I just gaped at him for a moment, and then anger overtook relief.

"You _prat_!" I cried, "Do you know how worried I've been? We've all been trying to phone you since lunch time, why on earth didn't you answer? Much has been worried sick!" I paused for breath, and that was when I finally got a good look at him. He'd stayed silent throughout my tirade, just staring resolutely over the top of my head. He was still wearing school uniform, though he'd taken of his blazer and tie, which I could see stuffed into his bag. When I looked into his face he was pale and tired, and that was when I noticed his eyes. They were red-rimmed.

He'd been crying.

"Robin?"

Wordlessly he held out his hand for me to take, and I could not refuse. He pulled me forwards into my front garden and I shut the door behind me.

"Robin?" I said his name again, my voice barely more than a whisper, "What's wrong?"

He swallowed hard, and when he spoke his voice was unsteady.

"Please, just come out with me."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay, my lovely readers. I've been busier than expected. Also, I apologise for any mistakes in this chapter, since it hasn't been properly proofread. If you spot anything that bothers you, let me know and I'll sort it out xxx

Littlemissmaster - Sorry for the wait!

LittleMissSparkles - He is indeed ) And as for Robin, you'll have to read to find out.

Kate - Your reviews are always a pleasure to read. Now you'll be able to see if your theory was correct and thank you, as always, for your lovely comments. I like writing in first person. It tends to be a lot more humorous than when I write from other perspectives.

Shanima- Hee, thanks for the review.

BeckScarlett - I apologise for any death my cliffhanger has caused

VDStar - Thank you very much for your kind review.

Mathskid - You'll have to read to find out ;)

Blackfishy - The wait is over! Thanks for your review!

There was no way that I was going to refuse; I didn't want to let him out of my sight.

"Just let me put some shoes on," I told him, pulling my hand out of his and turning back to the house. He seemed reluctant to let go, and I felt vaguely panicky. Not once, in all the years that I'd been friends with Robin, had I known him to be needy or vulnerable. It was frightening.

"Dad!" I shouted, ramming my feet into an old pair of trainers, "Dad, I'm going out!"

I heard him push his chair back from the kitchen table, then footsteps coming to the door. Before he could ask me what I was doing (I didn't know) or try and stop me, I darted out of the door and back to Robin.

"Come on, before my dad stops me," I urged him and, taking his hand, ran down my garden path and out into the street. Only when we were a few houses away from my own with no sign of my father following me did I allow us to stop. To my surprise, Robin instantly sped up again. "Wait, wait. Where are we going?"

He didn't even look back at me as he spoke, just kept on walking.

"The park," he told me shortly, and I ran a few steps to keep up with him. I tried to take his hand again, craving closeness to reassure me after being so worried, but his hand was unresponsive under mine and I just dropped it again, hurt. If it weren't obvious that something had badly shaken him, I would have been angry at his behaviour. As it was, I was mostly just worried. My words and inquiries were met with a stony silence every time I tried to talk to him, and I grew more and more frustrated.

"Will you just tell me what's going on?" I snapped at last, stopping dead in the middle of the pavement. He stopped too, but showed no signs of answering my question. Instead he just looked up at the house I'd stopped outside, expression cold. I looked up at it too, and realised it's significance. We were in Victoria Avenue. It was his old house.

"Shall we… Shall we keep going?" I offered, and he nodded.

"Yeah."

So we set off again for the park at the end of the road, and Robin didn't speak again until we'd reached it. Sighing, I took a seat on one of the swings and looped my arm around the chain, twisting around to look at him as he sat down on the climbing frame.

"So are you going to tell me what this is about?" I asked, not sure whether to be sympathetic or angry that he'd dragged me out here in the dark. Robin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the brightly painted metal bars behind him. He lifted his arms to grab hold of two of the bars to stop himself from slipping or falling off, but the way he sat there; eyes closed, arms spread, it looked as though he were offering himself up for whoever would take him.

"My mum's in hospital," he told me eventually, and I nearly fell off of the swing in surprise. I put my feet down to keep my balance.

"No…"

He smiled grimly. "Yeah. Want to know why?"

I hesitated, wondering at his slightly odd question. 'Want to know why?'. It seemed foreboding, somehow, as though the answer was something that I wouldn't want to hear.

"You don't have to tell me," I answered haltingly, "I mean, if you don't want to, you don't have to-"

"I do, though. I've got to tell someone, because the stories will be out soon enough and I know the sort of things they'll say. Someone's gotta know the truth," he sounded bitter as he spoke. It didn't suit him.

"Ok, then. Tell me."

"She overdosed," he told me, voice laced with fake nonchalance that was only just holding together. After he said it he opened an eye, as though to gauge my reaction. I just stared at him, not knowing what to think. It seemed to be the reaction he was expecting, because he gave a humourless laugh.

"What…?" I said, faintly.

"On dothiepin," he continued, and then added, at my confused look, "It's a prescription anti-depressant."

"Oh," I said, suddenly beginning to understand why I'd never seen more than a fleeting glance of his mother out of all the times I'd been to his house. Why nobody really saw her out and about, and why she'd never come up to the school like some parents did when their child got into trouble. I swallowed, hard. "Is she going to be alright?"

Robin shrugged. "She's not dead. But she… She hasn't woken up yet. They don't know when she will."

His voice trembled and the caustic, uncaring act that he'd been putting on ever since he'd knocked on my door fell apart. He tucked his knees up to his chest and rested his head against them as though he were trying to hide. At once I was off of the swing, scrambling up the climbing frame to haul myself up next to him. I put my hand on his back and for a moment he stayed utterly still, so tense I could feel it through his jacket. Then, slowly, he sat up and turned to look at me. The next moment we were hugging fiercely, clinging to each other so hard that I could scarcely feel where I ended and he began, and I didn't care anyway.

"Shh, shh, shh," automatically I was making soothing sounds in my throat, but as I held him, felt his body trembling slightly and saw nothing but the stars up above us as my head rested on his shoulder, the sounds shook and I struggled to swallow around the damned lump in my throat. I felt more than heard Robin give a choking laugh.

"What are _you_ crying for?" he asked, his voice still unsteady, face wet with his tears and mine, "You're stealing my limelight."

I laughed and sniffed. "I'm just showing you how it's done."

"Oh," he said, then, "Thanks for sharing your wisdom with me, oh experienced cry-baby."

I shoved him, hard. He fell back against the bright yellow bars, laughing still with tears in his eyes, and grabbed hold of part of the climbing frame to stop himself from falling.

"You're meant to be comforting me, not trying to kill me!" He didn't seem too annoyed about it, though. Quite to the contrary, he was starting to smile for the first time.

"Maybe if you stopped being such a woman, then?" I goaded, laughing at his look of incredulity.

"That's it…" he grabbed my arms, pinning me back against the poles behind me. I laughed and squirmed, trying to get free, and in the struggle my knee managed to find the spot between his legs. It was an accident, I swear. I heard him yelp and then we were both falling, still tangled together, to land with a dull thud in the sand pit at the foot of the climbing frame. For a moment I lay there, stunned and breathless, and then groaned and tried to wriggle away from the elbow that was digging into my navel.

"Ah," I gasped, "Get off."

Robin's voice came from somewhere in the region of my legs, slightly high-pitched and much aggrieved.

"I would if I could move," he hissed, then moaned, "God, Marian. What if I wanted to have children someday?"

I snorted, reaching up a hand to wipe sand out of my face. "You big Jessie. I bet it doesn't even hurt that much. Blokes just exaggerate, like manflu."

Robin made a wordless sound of protest, and there was a lot of scuffling as he sat up, finally removing his weight from my lower body.

"See!" I cried, "You're moving perfectly well now."

Robin stretched and looked down at me, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. On catching sight of me, however, his offended expression faded and he snorted with laughter. My eyes, which I had just closed as I lay there, shot open in suspicion.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"You have a small amount of sand," he told me, "In your hair."

Slowly, I reached up and felt my hair. Sure enough, it was absolutely coated in sand. My eyes widened in horror, and Robin burst out laughing. Giggling slightly myself, I sat up and grabbed a handful of sand, putting it in his own hair. With a cry of protest he shook his head, sending it flying everywhere. A struggle broke out, both of us trying to overpower the other and cover them in sand as much as possible, which cumulated with Robin pinning me to the ground where I lay, gasping for breath. He propped himself up over me, panting too, and then gave in to his exhaustion and flopped down on top of me.

"Don't!" I protested, beginning to giggle, and before I knew it we were both laughing. It was vaguely hysterical, not the wholesome laughter you get after a funny joke, but rather the laughter of the survivor of a disaster, panicky and still frightened, as they realise that they've made it. We laughed until we cried, then cried until we laughed.

At last, utterly spent, we lay there on our backs in the sand, listening to the sound of the estate at night. Wind rustled the leaves of the trees around us, and every now and again there would be the roar of an engine or the screech of brakes as cars sped along the nearby main road. I watched the stars above us twinkle into view; it was a clear night, cool, and I started to shiver. I didn't see Robin look at me, but he must have noticed because he wordlessly held out an arm. I didn't argue, just took up the offer and huddled up next to him, revelling in the warmth that his body created.

"Do you reckon there's life out there?" I asked, still gazing up into the stars. I heard him move to look at me, but didn't look down.

"I think so, yeah," he told me eventually, and I smiled.

"I do too. Out there, orbiting one of the billions and billions of stars, there's got to be _something_. We can't be the only ones in the whole of existence, the only pinprick of life in the whole of the universe, stretching out into forever… It's frightening."

"It is a bit," Robin agreed mildly. "Imagine all the responsibility, being the only life, ever…"

"To think that once we're gone that's it, forever and ever. For the rest of eternity, there's nothing else…" I shivered, and this time not from the cold. Robin held me closer, and I was glad for the comfort of his touch.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked quietly, felt him tense beside me. Finally, he shrugged.

"I'm going to stay with my dad's friend. John Little. He lives on the other side of the city."

"Oh. And what about school?" He shrugged again, and there was a long silence.

"You know," he said eventually, "Cats have probably pissed in this sandpit."

I wrinkled my nose, letting him change the subject, and sat up.

"Eugh. Help me get the sand out of my hair?"

He obliged and together we sat there, shaking the sand out of our pockets and the folds of our clothes, talking about nothing in particular and avoiding any serious topics. I don't think that either of us wanted to think. But this issue of Robin's mother, of the future and what paths our precarious lives would take, hung heavily in the air. I could almost feel it pressing down on me, pressing down on my lungs and making breathing difficult.

I shifted position, half-crawling out of the sandpit to pull myself back up onto the bottom of the climbing frame and looked down at Robin. Something in my pocket was digging into my leg and I pulled it out, only to stare guiltily down at my phone, where bold text proclaimed that I'd had multiple missed calls from 'Dad'. I glanced at the time, and had to suppress a wince. It was so late that it was early. I felt Robin sit down beside me, and then there was his voice next to my ear.

"Everything ok?"

I hesitated for a moment, then put my phone back into my pocket. "Yeah. Fine."

There was a silence, and Robin watched me almost suspiciously, as though afraid that I was suddenly going to leave. I wasn't.

"We used to play here when we were kids," I said quietly, looking around at the still and shadowed playground. "It feels like ages ago now."

"It was."

"Mhm."

"That was where you broke your ankle when you were nine," Robin pointed out, gesturing towards the swings. The look in his eyes was difficult to discern; nostalgic, perhaps, even sorrowful. Those were easier times.

"You pushed me," I added. A remark designed to provoke an argument, like so many things we said to each other that night. Was that what we did now? Argue over petty, stupid things so that we didn't have to think about the things that were hurting us? Another form of escapism, but that was Robin personified. Maybe that was why I liked him so much.

"I didn't. You fell because you have no balance," he protested mildly, and I came back to the present, remembering the subject of our current debate. I laughed, then sighed. He shot me a searching look.

"What are you thinking about?" Evidently he could read me all too well. I shrugged.

"You. Us. The future."

He grimaced. "Do you have to? Just think about right now…"

"What, sitting in on a climbing frame in the middle of the night, freezing my arse off?"

"Point taken. I've got… I've got my blazer in my bag still, if you want to put that on."

"Yeah, alright." I took the proffered school blazer as he held it out to me and shrugged it on. It was only thin and made of nylon, not exactly insulating, but it smelt of Lynx and Robin and made me feel warmer all the same. We sat there for a long time, just the two of us. In the stillness and the silence, I could almost believe that we were the only two people left in the whole world. And at that moment I thought that if we were, I'd be quite content with it all. I wouldn't have minded if the hours had just stretched on forever, leaving us trapped for eternity in that moment - cold and sad, both of us with tear-tracks on our faces and just about the closest to perfection I've ever known.

But time moved on, would not afford us the luxury of an eternity together under the stars, and light began to show on the horizon. The night's deep indigo began to glow a lacklustre grey and I heard Robin sigh as though he did not want to face the dawning day. Nether did I, but there were sounds of life on the estate now, and my dad would probably call the police if I didn't go home soon. I became aware that I was sitting around in yesterday's clothes and make-up, and hadn't brushed my hair in hours. I probably looked a state. Robin looked much the same, his clothes hopelessly rumpled and still slightly sandy, and there were dark circles under his eyes. I pulled my phone out of my pocket again, looking at it guiltily.

"I'm going to have to go home," I said reluctantly. Robin looked up and frowned.

"What-"

"I'll come back," I added quickly, "I'll just go home and tell my dad what's going on, then I'll come straight back."

"It's a school day," he reminded me quietly.

"You're not going, are you?" I asked, knowing the answer. He shook his head, and my expression dared him to challenge me, "There you go. I'm not, either."

"You'll ruin your hundred percent attendance record," he protested dryly, and I rolled my eyes, getting to my feet. My legs were stiff from sitting down for so long, and I caught hold of the climbing frame to keep from falling over. Robin eyed me dubiously.

"Look, don't argue with me. I'll be back in twenty minutes, ok?"

He shrugged. "Ok."

I nodded and turned around, marching from the park and back out into Victoria Avenue. I could hear birds singing in the trees that lined the road, and the sky was even a slightly less gloomy shade of grey than usual. In other circumstances, it might have put me in a good mood, but as it was I was too shaken up to care much. I'd just had possibly the most bizarre night of my life.

As I turned into my road I broke into a jog and by the time I reached my house I was running flat out. I vaulted over the gate, not pausing to open it, and pulled out my keys as I reached the door. Before I could put them into the lock it opened and my dad stood there, glowering down at me. Oh, shit.

"Hi, dad," I greeted him, trying for a jaunty, winning tone but not quite managing it. His expression grew, if possible, even steelier.

"Do you have _any _idea how worried I've been?" His voice was dangerously low, and I swallowed hard. "All night I've been waiting up for you, wondering where you were-"

"Dad, I'm sorry-"

"Phoned you God knows how many times-"

"I can explain-"

"No answer. What was I supposed to think-"

"Dad, just listen to me! Robin's mum got taken to hospital and he was really shaken up," I tried to explain.

"You could have let me know what was going on!" Dad's voice was rising now.

"I know, I know," I agreed wretchedly, "But I wasn't thinking straight. I was distracted-"

That probably wasn't the best thing to say, given that I'd already mentioned that I was with Robin. Dad's eyebrows shot up.

"With what?"

"With one of my friends being upset, okay? That's what friends do, you know. They help each other out when they're in trouble!"

I was halfway up the stairs, trying to make it to my room. Dad made no move to stop me, but he did follow me up. I darted through my doorway, giving the door a shove behind me but Dad caught it, refusing to let me shut him out. I sighed, raiding my drawers for a clean jumper and pulling it over my head.

"If this is the sort of behaviour that your new friends are causing then you really need to rethink the sort of people you're connected with, Marian!" Dad continued from my doorway. "You never used to be like this when you were friends with John and Guy-"

"I never used to be like _anything _when I was friends with them!" I protested, whirling around to face him. "They wouldn't let me!"

"And perhaps they were right! I don't know what you were thinking!"

"I did something stupid, I know. I should have told you where I was, I know!" I snapped back, shouting myself now, "But I was thinking that one of my _real _friends needed me, and there was no way I was going to let him down. They're more family that you've ever been."

Dad just stared at me, open mouthed. I winced as the words left my mouth, but was too angry to apologise for them. My statement was hardly fair; dad had always done his best and it couldn't have been easy, raising me alone after mum died, but I was pressed by the urgent need to get back to Robin lest he do anything stupid in my absence, and dad was only getting in my way.

"I'm going back to Robin, dad. I'll see you later."

"You'll do no such thing!" Dad protested, but I did not listen, just swept past him and back downstairs. I heard him calling after me as I left the house but did not look back or slow down. I was almost running when I reached the park and skidded to a halt at the edge of the sandpit, confused. Robin wasn't there. He hadn't waited.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in posting, people, but my coursework just refuses to write itself no matter how much I beg it to (stubborn thing). I apologise in advance if this chapter seems a bit disjointed, it was written a few paragraphs at a time whenever I had a free moment.

Shanynde - More Will/Djaq coming up ;)

Littlemissmaster - Thanks for your review, and sorry for the long wait!

Kate - Long shiny new review! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying this. I couldn't kill off his mum, I couldn't be that nasty to him… _yet_. I'm glad the Marian/Edward situation is working, I've always thought that they'd had an interesting relationship. And as for the fluff, I just can't help myself

LittleMissSparkles - Thank you for the review!

BeckyScarlett - Thanks! I'm really glad you enjoyed it.

Bookflower - Thank you very much, I'm pleased the adaptation to modern day seems to be working. Guy's never been evil, I don't think. He's just very misguided.

The first thing that I did upon discovering that Robin had disappeared was to text the bastard in an attempt to find out where on earth he had disappeared to. I'd told him that I was coming back, hadn't I? I stood, gripping my hair partly in frustration and partly because I just had to do _something_, and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as I got a reply.

_Gone to Little John's. See you around. X _

I stared down at the text message for a moment, caught between sympathy and unadulterated anger. Both, however, paled beside the wave of exhaustion that washed over me as I realised exactly how many hours it had been since I'd last seen the inside of a warm bed. Altogether too many.

I was more asleep than awake as I trudged home across the estate, and it was to my great relief that I found that dad had already gone to work by the time I got home. He'd left a note for me on the hall table and I picked it up dubiously, wondering whether it was about to tell me that I'd been disowned or some such thing.

_Have called school to tell them you are ill. Expect you to be home when I get home. Will talk then. Dad._

Not as bad as I'd thought, to be honest. At least I had until the evening before he got home and tore me a new one, and he seemed to have accepted the fact that there was no way that I was going to school today. I stumbled sleepily upstairs and fell onto my bed with a cry of thankfulness. Fully clothed, I lay on top of the covers and tumbled almost instantaneously into slumber.

Robin had been right. Somehow, the story of what happened to his mum got out soon enough. As soon as he didn't turn up to school for a couple of days running, someone presumably did some digging, and found answers. He was right about the lies, too. It seemed as though people had heard the word "overdose" and jumped to the wrong conclusions. Suddenly Robin's mother was a crackwhore, and he was probably a thief trying to support her, too. I was glad, in a way, that Robin had stayed away since that first night, presumably on the other side of the city with Little John, the man I'd never met but already had feelings of affection for because he'd taken Robin in so willingly. At least that meant that he probably hadn't heard any of the hurtful stories, told with such glee by Sheriff and his gang. That didn't stop the selfish little part of me from screaming that I wanted Robin back for my own sake though, just because I missed his company. The gang wasn't the same without him, and conversation drifted all too easily to the morbid and the worrying without him coming up with new plans.

"Do you reckon she was trying to top herself?" Allan mused as we sat beneath our favourite tree at lunchtime, now two days since the incident with Robin's mother. Djaq shot him a scandalised look, and Will raised his eyebrows.

"You shouldn't-" Djaq stared, but he cut her off.

"It's a valid point though, innit?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Much mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

"So don't. Shut up then," Allan advised him, and I raised my head to glare at the boy. He just winked at me in reply and I rolled my eyes, knowing that it was no use trying to be serious with him.

"It could have been a mistake," I added, reluctantly joining the conversation.

"Hmm," Allan made an agreeable sound in his throat and then, displaying his remarkable talent for saying just the thing that everyone has been trying to avoid thinking about, he continued, "Reckon she's going to be all right?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't heard anything more since the first night." I glanced at Much and he nodded, confirming that he didn't know anything more either.

Djaq pulled a face. "It's dothepin. It depends entirely on how high the dose was."

A silence met the girl's words, and for a moment nobody seemed to want to speak.

"We're a fucked up little group, aren't we?" Allan remarked cheerfully, "Will and Maz've both 'ad their mums kick the bucket and it looks like Robin's is going that way too. Djaq's stuck playing translator to half of her bloody _clan_, and no offence Much but you get any more worse off you an' your life savings will be in negative figures."

"What about you, then?" Will asked, sounding grimly amused about it all, this black comedy of a pantomime that if life.

Allan shrugged, grinning slightly. "My tragic tale, you mean? Well that's obvious. I dunno who my dad is. Mum's a slag, in't she?"

Djaq looked vaguely scandalised. "You can't say that about your _mother_."

"Well technically there's nothing stopping him but a sense of propriety, and since when has Allan had one of those?" Much shrugged. I lay back on the grass, groaning.

"God, listen to us," I complained, "We'll have all committed suicide by the end of the week if we carry on like this."

At the mention of suicide we lapsed into awkward silence. That was happening far too often lately. There was a hole in our group where Robin should be, and without him the reality of our situations was stealing back into our thoughts. Being with the gang was becoming less and less like escapism. The truth was that everyone was haunted, and it was beginning to show.

I wandered into Food Technology with Allan and Much for last lesson and we took our usual places, preparing to pull our revision out of our bags. But before we could get comfortable our teacher appeared in the doorway, looking irritable.

"All year elevens are to go to the hall. There's an assembly," she told us, looking irritated that we were to be allowed to escape our designated hour in her stuffy classroom. I shared a confused look with Much, but Allan was grinning.

"What do you think is going on?" I asked him, but he just shook his head, still smiling.

"If I'm right, something good," he told us, but refused to elaborate. "Come on, let's go."

Much and I followed the excited boy down the corridors, our class meeting up with other excited year elevens who seemed to have been turfed out of their lessons too. I glanced at the strawberry blonde boy beside me.

"Reckon it's to do with the exams?"

"We've already been sent our timetables," he shrugged.

"Could be about study leave?" I guessed hopefully, and he just pulled a face.

"Probably only to tell us that there isn't going to be any."

"We can always dream, can't we?"

Some dreams, it turns out, can come true. We filed into the assembly hall and took our places in the rows of seats already laid out for us. Strictly we were supposed to be sitting with the rest of our classes but nobody was really paying attention to that and we quickly sought out Will and Djaq, who had just come from their technology classes. Whispering filled the hall as the deputy head teacher stepped out in front of us, rumours and bitching and trying to guess why we had been called.

"It has been decided," the deputy head began once she had called for silence and the congregated students had finally adhered to her request. "That since the classroom is not an atmosphere conductive to study for some of our students here, and we have had word from some of the parents-"

"Get on with it," Allan groaned beside me, and I stifled a giggle.

"-that year eleven students are henceforth on study leave."

A silence met her words. There was an expression of shock on every face, which quickly morphed to glee without exception. All at once, it seemed, a cacophony of voices broke out.

"YES!" Someone at the back of the hall shouted excitedly, earning a reproving glare from the teachers, but nobody really cared.

"That is bloody brilliant," Allan grinned beside me, then raised an eyebrow. "I knew it."

Smiling, I glanced at the others. Djaq, delighted, had pulled Will into a hug. He opened his mouth in surprise, his hands sticking out from beneath her arms as though he wasn't sure what to do with them. A moment later he seemed to come to his senses and hugged her back. I glanced sideways at Much, and burst out laughing. Djaq twisted to look around at us in surprise and Will looked up too, looking slightly hot and bothered at our attention.

"Nothing," I replied, still grinning, "Just glad to be seeing the back of this place at last." I gestured around me at the school, and Djaq smiled back, sharing my enthusiasm. Will's attention, however, was riveted to the girl who still had one arm around him and as much as he was attempting to be a part of the conversation, his eyes kept travelling back to her face. If I didn't look away from them, I was going to get a fit of the giggles again.

We were forced to sit in the airless hall for another stifling forty-five minutes while our record of achievement folders were given out and speeches were made. Only a few of the staff had turned up, I noticed. How encouraging to see how much they really cared.

Then, finally, we were set free to say our goodbyes which weren't really goodbyes at all, just see-you-laters. I posed in a few photos with girls who were friendly with Robin's gang and around me the ancient and hallowed ritual that was shirt-signing began to take place. I scribbled 'Good luck, love Marian' on a few people's shirts and felt others writing on me. It quickly descended into confusion, ending up with everyone signing everyone else and in the midst of it I caught sight of Allan writing something across a blonde girl's chest. Rolling my eyes as he took his time, apparently making the most of the opportunity, I turned around to find Sheriff standing just in front of me, his back turned to me as he spoke to someone else. He didn't even seem to notice as a couple of his usual simpering groupies wrote something on his shoulder, and my lips twitched into a grin. I couldn't help resist; I reached for a pen.

When Sheriff left the hall as they turfed us out at three o'clock whispers and giggles followed him. I eyed my handiwork contentedly as it stood out against the white of his shirt, a choice comment inked out in red marker across his back.

"That was you, I presume?" Much sidled up to me, looking suitably impressed by my creative choice of language. I widened my eyes and pretended to be affronted.

"Where would a nice girl like me pick up language like that? I am entirely innocent," I protested.

Much smiled. "From hanging around with ruffians like us lot for too long?"

"Pfft. I taught you all you know."

He laughed then, but it sounded slightly strained. He looked at his watched and pulled a face. "I'm not going to stick around. I've got my paper round tonight and people tend to ring up and complain when they're delivered late."

"Tell them to stuff it," I advised him, pretending to be serious.

The corners of his mouth twitched, as though he wasn't sure whether to be amused or disapproving. "I'd like to keep my job, thanks. See you."

"Bye."

I suddenly felt quite lonely. Allan was probably celebrating the end of formal lessons with a quick fumble in a dark corner somewhere, and Will and Djaq had disappeared. With nothing better to do, I resolved to go and empty out my locker before I forgot.

The corridors were quiet as I walked towards my reg room but I froze as I reached the door, which was ajar. There were voices coming from inside.

"-Not going. I can't believe them sometimes."

That was Will's voice and I peered through the gap to see him leaning against a desk, watching as Djaq pulled her P.E kit from her locket. Evidently we'd had the same idea.

"Everyone shows their emotions differently. Just because they're not going doesn't mean they don't care." She was saying sensibly.

"But it'll be her birthday. They should be going to the bloody crematorium!" Will burst out and I could only listen, shocked. I'd never seen him lose his temper before. It occurred to me that there was probably a lot to the logical, sweet, shy seeming boy that I'd never seen, never paused to consider.

"Will," Djaq said softly, turning around. "People have different methods of coping. Some cry, some get angry, some try to run away-"

"It just seems like sometimes they don't care," Will clenched his jaw, visibly trying to hold it together.

"So maybe your dad and Luke aren't going tomorrow. Maybe they're scared. Maybe they don't want to think about your Mum," Djaq continued gently, abandoning her locker and stepping closer, "But they care… _I _care."

And suddenly, I didn't think that she was talking about his mum anymore. Will swallowed, hard.

"W-What do you mean?" he stammered. Djaq just smiled up at him, a little sadly.

"Guess, genius," she said, half-scornfully, and tilted her head up as if to kiss him. Will scrambled backwards, looking bewildered.

"What are you doing?"

Djaq raised her eyebrows. "I thought that would be obvious. I was shutting you up."

He laughed, nervously. "But isn't it - that is, being with me, against what you… Your family believe?"

Djaq snorted rather inelegantly. "I believe in loving someone. I believe that that's what really matters… And I believe that if you don't reciprocate now then I will never try and kiss you again, and I'll quite possibly hit you to boot."

"Oh." Will looked momentarily stunned. Then he smiled, just a little. "Okay."

As he stepped towards her I closed my eyes and slipped away. My locker could wait.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **I apologise for the delay. Any Will/Djaq shippers may want to brush their teeth after reading, so sweet is this chapter ;

Littlemissmaster - Hee. I didn't realise that people would be so curious about the writing on Sheriff's shirt. I certainly know what _I_ think she wrote, but it's open to impression. Besides, if I wrote what it said, I might have to put the rating up xD

Shanynde - Thank you, and I will!

Kates Master - I'm glad you decided to leave a review. If I'm honest, I tend to do the same. It's immensely encouraging to hear that you're enjoying the story. If it helps, I've got a rather interesting confrontation between Marian and her father planned for the future, in about a chapter or two's time.

LittleMissSparkles - Enjoy the Will/Djaq fluffiness

Traditional.Rose - Thank you. I'm glad you're liking the relationships!

Bookflower - I'm sorry that you had to go through events similar to those in the previous chapter, but I'm so, so pleased to hear that you thought the subject was dealt with well, particularly coming from experience. Thank you!

The next two weeks were quite possibly the most boring of my life. Dad was still quietly fuming about the incident with Robin and the park and was stubbornly refusing to let me go out for more than about ten minutes at a time, as though if I did I might run off and decide never to come back. Perhaps he had a point - with the amount of revision I'd been doing, the thought was tempting. I managed to resist, however, but couldn't manage to silence the bitter little voice in the back of my mind that muttered that _of course I wouldn't, it was everyone else who ran away_. I'd had no more word from Robin but for the occasional text to let me know that he still existed, and filled my days instead with facts and equations written on post-it notes stuck to my walls. The thread of exams loomed ever closer, and I began to get worried.

Thankfully the first exam was Religious Education, the subject that I was least worried about failing. Still, I was jittery and nervous as I signed myself in and walked around to the sports hall, where the exams would be taking place. Groups of students were already waiting outside, huddling outside the doors or else sitting on the grass, looking over their revision books. Wandering towards the sports hall I heard Allan's distinctive laugh and looked around, finally spotting my friends leaning against the wall some way away. Hurriedly, I walked towards them.

"Nervous?" Allan looked over his shoulder to greet me and I grimaced.

"Just a bit," I answered distractedly, looking past him at the others. Robin was standing there between Much and Will, apparently trying to look inconspicuous as passers by caught sight of him and started whispering about his return.

"You've actually decided to show your face, then?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him. A sharp look from Djaq told me that perhaps I was being too insensitive, but Robin didn't seem bothered by my tone.

"Thought I'd better," he shrugged. "Mr Walker would throw a fit if I didn't."

"True," I conceded, starting to smile. "Now, who can tell me the parable of the sheep and the goats?"

Much looked worried. "What have sheep and goats got to do with religion?"

Allan snorted with laughter, and both Will and Djaq shot him identical sharp looks, as though warning him to drop his train of thought. Allan looked both surprised and amused at the way they both seemed to act as one unit, and I fought the urge to say anything about what I'd witnessed on our last day of lessons. They hadn't mentioned anything so neither could I, though it was tempting.

"I've got a bone to pick with you," I remembered suddenly, sidling up to Robin. He regarded my coolly, looking slightly amused.

"Just the one?"

"A whole skeleton, actually," I conceded, "But one in particular."

"Oh?"

"There was a distinct lack of egg and catapult related shenanigans on the last day. Very little was vandalised, actually. I blame you."

He snorted with laughter, and it occurred to me how much I'd missed him.

"That'll have to be sorted out," he promised, and I grinned. "The last exam is stats, innit?"

"Yep. Twenty-first of June," Allan added, turning around the join in. There was a certain amount of longing in his voice as he spoke the date.

"Plenty of time to prepare, then," Robin remarked cheerfully.

"For what?" Much asked, looking wary. Probably rightly so.

"All the egg and catapult related shenanigans you could possibly wish for," Robin looked at me, grinning. I laughed, and Much just looked vaguely confused.

At that moment the doors to the sports hall opened and we were ushered inside. My nerves returned in full force as I found my seat. I glanced around, at the rows of ancient, dodgy desks set out and the large clocks that had been hung on the wall to transform the building from sports hall to exam hall. The change wasn't all that drastic, though - the place still smelled strongly of feet. I caught sight of Robin, sitting right up at the front in the next row to mine, and quickly picked out the locations of the others. Djaq mouthed 'good luck' and I gave her a nervous thumbs up in reply. Then the dreaded signal came - we were told to start. I opened the paper, chewing on my pen as I read through the first question.

As exams go, it wasn't a bad one. Most of the questions wanted an opinion or something subjective as an answer, so it was easy to blag, sticking in a few bible references here and there. When I told Robin how easy I'd found it afterwards he'd shrugged and commented that I'd always been good at talking rubbish. At which point I decided that he could just sod off again, naturally. He'd only been back a few hours and already he was driving me mad.

When, after we'd all bought a celebratory saveloy and chips after finishing with school and exams for the day, he announced that he actually was about to sod off back to Little John's house. I wasn't pleased at all.

"John's redoing his kitchen and I said I'd help," he explained when we tried to convince him to stay a bit longer, "He's trying to convince Alice he's worth living with."

"Alice?" I'd asked, puzzled.

"His wife. Or ex-wife, since she left him. But technically, probably still his wife since they haven't got divorced yet. Hmm. He loves her. She loves him, I think, but can't stand living with him. It's complicated," Robin explained, with a slight grin, and would not be dissuaded from leaving.

The next few weeks were more of the same, really. Robin was back with us, though he declined to speak about the state of his home life. From what I had gathered from his vague answers to questions and the few scraps of information he'd divulged in conversations, his mother was recovering but they were still staying with Little John. He seemed to be back to his old self, though, which I supposed was a good thing. It was vaguely infuriating, actually, since that meant that he utterly refused to acknowledge how close we'd been, how much we'd been able to open up to each other, on that night when he was made vulnerable out of concern for his mother. Invulnerable Robin was the one that everyone at school had missed when he'd been gone; cocky, indomitably mischievous and, I thought, somewhat insincere. It was selfish of me, perhaps, but I preferred the Robin that only came out when we were alone together, the one that was flawed and didn't bother trying to hide it from me, because even if he did I'd just seen right through it.

But if Robin's good spirits seemed more forced than usual, Will and Djaq's seemed vastly improved. One was rarely to be seen without the other nearby, and though I'd managed to keep what I'd seen a secret, the others were beginning to get suspicious too. After all, there were only so many utterly dazed grins that Will could display while he looked at the girl beside him before people started to notice.

The situation came to a head after the last of our chemistry exams, when we gathered outside the sports hall to either obsessively compare answers or else complain about the obsessive comparing of our classmates. I met up with Robin, Will, Much and Allan. The general consensus was that it had been difficult, and Will worried that he hadn't balanced his equations properly.

"C6H12O6 _is _glucose, isn't it?" Robin asked me by way of greeting as I approached.

"God, I hope so," I answered, "Otherwise I completely buggered up the last question."

He grinned. "What did you think of it?"

"It was _awful,_" Much complained mournfully, "I thought C6H12O6 was ethanol?"

"Nope. I'm sure it is glucose. Sorry," I added, as he groaned theatrically.

"Isn't ethanol C5 something?" Will wondered, and I shrugged.

"You'd have to ask Djaq," Allan told him, sounding unconcerned. He wasn't bothering to go over what he thought he'd got right and wrong. He'd already given us his view on science a few days previously after our first physics exam - '_Who cares why? It just is. Isn't that enough?'_

"That's a point. Where is she?" Much looked around, as though expecting to see her walking towards us. She wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"She was talking to Mr Smith when I came out," Allan mused. Mr Smith was the head of the science department and no doubt Djaq's favourite teacher.

"Probably trying to check her answers, then," I hazarded a guess, then smiled. "So, who's ready for Stats on Friday?"

"Not me," Much said at once, and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm sure you're not doing as badly as you think-" I was just starting to point out when there was a disturbance to my right and I looked around just in time to see Will disappear beneath a bundle of very excited girl. Allan started laughing beside me as he backed into the adjacent wall to keep his balance, ending up with his arms around Djaq's middle and holding her about a foot off of the ground as she sprang on him. She was shouting something excitedly, and it took me a moment to decipher what exactly she was saying.

"I think I've done well! Touch wood and everything, but I think I might have got all the answers!" She took a moment to catch her breath, as Will reluctantly lowered her to the ground, and then continued again, more slowly, "There was just one question I wasn't sure of. You know the empirical formula mass one? But I just talked to Mr Smith about what I wrote for it, and I think I've got it right."

There was silence for a moment and then Will pulled her into a hug, looking as though he couldn't have been happier if he himself had got everything right. We all knew how important this exam was to her; she'd been fretting over it for weeks. Will had spent the whole morning telling her that she was going to do well so _stop worrying_, while she'd just flapped her hands at him and told him not to tempt fate. Now it seemed as though Will had been proven right and the two were positively beaming.

"I knew it!" Will cried, eyes only for her. She smiled back, looking ecstatic. And then, before anyone could do or say anything else, she'd put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him, hard. For a moment he seemed stunned but then he was kissing her back, hands coming up to hold her towards him. I glanced sideways at my friends, all of whom wore identical expressions of surprise.

Then Allan whistled, loudly, and the two sprang apart, laughing even as they gasped for breath.

"We'll have less of that, thanks," Much said, but he was obviously fighting not to laugh at the pair of them. Djaq turned back towards us, biting her lip but looking utterly unrepentant.

"Thank God!" I cried dramatically and the others shot me questioning looks. I grinned mischievously. "Now it's out in the open I can finally gossip about it!"

Will shot me a scandalised look. "What do you mean, _now it's out in the open_?"

"You have been bloody obvious about it," Allan pointed out.

"It's been will-they-won't-they for weeks now," Much explained.

"About time!" Robin added, and we all laughed at Will and Djaq's surprised looks. Djaq recovered first, and raised her eyebrows at us.

"None of you can talk. Except maybe Allan, because with him it's not so much will-he-won't-he as will-he-ever-stop?" Disconcertingly, she gave both Robin and myself pointed looks. Much, however, was looking confused at being included.

"Wha-"

"Don't think I haven't seen you with that girl you revise with. You can't take your eyes off of her!" Djaq told him smugly, and his eyes widened.

"I _can_. It's just revision - we look at cooking books together!" he protested and added, as Allan burst out laughing, "That's not a euphemism!"

Djaq just gave him an all-knowing look. "Of course not."

I was sitting at the computer, busily looking through example exam papers on my favourite revision website that evening when the doorbell rang. It wasn't uncommon for dad to have friends or associates come over, but he usually warned me about it first, and on this occasion he'd said nothing of the sort when he got home from work. Curiously, I glanced around the doorway and saw the silhouette of someone short - a woman, I thought - through the frosted glass of the front door.

When I opened it Djaq was stood there, clutching her jacket tightly in her hands and looking immeasurably angry. I just blinked in surprise.

"Hello?"

"Hi," she greeted me, sounding half-apologetic. "I'm running away. Care to assist?"

"Um… What?"

She shot me a slight grin. "I had a bit of an argument with my aunty. And my mum. And my cousins. Uh… basically everybody. Stormed out in a huff and got halfway across the estate before I realised that I didn't know where I was going. Thought I'd come here."

"…Okay."

She must have noticed my alarmed expression, because she hastened to reassure. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not really planning on doing a runner. I just thought I'd leave them to stew for a bit, and needed somewhere to go for a few hours. Do you mind?"

I smiled weakly, "No, it's fine. Wanna come up to my room?"

So that was how we came to be sitting there on my bed at five to midnight, tapping away at my dad's laptop (we'd commandeered it under the guise of using it for revision) and giggling at our classmates' myspace pictures.

"What on earth is Jenna doing?" I wondered, looking at said girl's photograph. She was apparently going for the windswept and mysterious look, pouting with her hair halfway across her face. Unfortunately all it succeeded in doing was increasing her resemblance to a rather untidy fish.

"I'm not sure… But why is Mike topless in all of his?"

"He got a gym membership and wants to show it off," I guessed, and snorted at I opened up Allan's profile. Djaq's eyes widened.

"What are all these comments?" She pointed at the screen. Every one of the twenty or so latest comments were from teenage girls, posed in their pictures in various states of undress.

"You're going to have to update your status," I reminded her suddenly, and she shot me a confused look. "From single to taken. By Will."

"Oh. Yeah. Actually, that's why I'm here," she grimaced, "Not because of myspace!" she added, when I shot her an odd look.

"Because of Will?"

"Yeah. He walked me home today, and my cousins saw us saying goodbye." She sighed, flopping back onto my bed.

"Oh. So your family know?" She nodded without opening her eyes. "And they don't like it?" She nodded again.

"I told you. They're 'so disappointed in me'," she said the last words in her aunt's accent, sounding bitter. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, suddenly. "It's my life, not theirs! Why can't I just do what makes me happy?"

"You should be able to. We all should," I said softly, and she nodded stiffly, then made an effort to smile.

"Come on, let's see who's been commenting Robin."

He wasn't online, which didn't surprise me. He hadn't been on it for weeks now, but I still checked occasionally, just in case. And to be amused by what he'd written about himself, the majority of which was both nonsensical and utterly hilarious. He tended to change his job description around a lot depending on what sort of mood he was in, and currently it still read 'work in a Bourbon biscuit factory, making sure that they're all the same shade of brown'. Djaq was just typing out a little something for him to read when he next came online when I heard the phone begin to ring downstairs.

"Dad!" I got up to call down to him. "Dad, phone!"

There was no answer, and the phone just kept on ringing. Sighing, I gathered that he was all-engrossed in something boring and involved with the stock market, and dashed irritably downstairs to answer it, fully expecting it to be someone from his work again.

"Hello?" a heavily accented voice greeted me, sounding uncertain.

"Hi?" I responded curiously.

"Hello," the voice said again, "This is Marian?"

"Um, yes. It is. Can I help you?"

"You are a friend of Safiya?"

It took me a moment to get what she was saying, and then realisation came quickly.

"Yes, yes I am. Are you looking for her?"

"Yes. She… left. She left earlier. You have seen her?"

"She's with me now," I answered, "Do you want to talk to her?"

"Yes, please," the voice, either Djaq's mother or aunt, I couldn't tell which, sounded immensely relieved.

"Ok, hold on. I'll go and get her." I put the phone down on the hall table for a moment and ran upstairs. Djaq looked up at me curiously when I peered around the door of my room.

"What was that?" she asked, sounding slightly suspicious. She must have heard some of the conversation.

"Someone for you," I told her, "Your mum or aunt I think. I can't tell which, sorry."

"They've been looking through my address book," Djaq sounded outraged at the thought, "That's the only way they could have got your number. They've been looking through my things!"

I dithered, caught between wanting to agree with my friend and feeling sorry for the concerned woman on the phone downstairs. "They sounded really worried about you."

"So?"

"So maybe you should let them know that you're okay," I suggested reasonably. Djaq just glared up at me for a moment, and I thought that she might start getting angry with me next, but then she looked down and sighed.

"Yeah, I suppose," she agreed reluctantly.

I stood on the landing, watching as she walked reluctantly downstairs and picked up the phone, still lying on the hall table.

"Marhaba? Umm?" she picked up the phone, sounding uncertain as she spoke into it. There was the faint some of someone speaking back on the other line, and then Djaq was speaking quickly in a language I did not understand. "Na'am. Ana bekhair-"

But she was interrupted, and I could only guess as to what was going on as she listened to what the person on the other end of the line was saying, eyes wide and expression unreadable.

Eventually she spoke, sounding surprised and more than a little subdued, "Na'am… Ana asif…. Ana ohebak."

She put the phone down, ending the call, and turned to look up at me. Her expression was impossible to read and for a moment I just regarded her nervously, wondering what had happened, what had been said. Then she smiled slightly, and I relaxed.

"I'm going to go home," she told me. I smiled back.

"You've made up, then?"

Djaq nodded. "She said… Well, she said she was sorry. That she missed me. That…" and here she paused, sounding slightly overcome. "That she wanted me to do well, and grow up well and be good, but most of all she wanted me to be happy."

"So, Will?"

Djaq shrugged. "He makes me happy."

**A/N:** I apologise for what is possibly some very grammatically incorrect Arabic, but I did my best Translated, Djaq's phone conversation with her mother means "_Hello? Mum? Yes. I'm fine." _and then, a bit later, "_Yes… I'm sorry… I love you."_


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Gosh, this story has turned out to be much longer than the ten or so chapters I'd originally intended it to be. There is an end in sight now, though rest assured that it won't be for a few more chapters.

Shanynde - Thank you!

LittleMissSparkles - Yep. And quite right, too

Bookflower - What little girl _wouldn't_ want to be her? And there's certainly going to be some interesting Robin/Marian interaction coming up in the next chapter or two!

By the time the final exam rolled around everyone, myself included, was utterly sick of revision, timetables, practice questions and yet more revision. Still, as I turned up on the morning of the Statistics exam, I couldn't quite believe that this was the last time I'd ever have to go to school, except to pick up my results in August.

I met the others outside the sports hall and we waited around to be let in. By now, everyone knew the drill; we were all used to leaving our coats and bags in the changing rooms, doing up the top buttons of our shirts as the invigilators glared at us only to undo them a few minutes later as we took our places at the carefully laid out desks. I peered worriedly at the battery symbol on my mobile as I turned it off and handed it over for the duration of the exam, wondering whether it would last until I could get home to charge it. All thoughts of phones, however, went out of my head as I wrote my name, candidate and centre number on the front of the exam paper, to be replaced by scraps of information that had been drilled into me by my teachers.

Surprisingly enough, the exam wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. The questions in the practice papers that I had done had ranged from ludicrously easy to insanely hard, and when I'd marked myself my grades had varied from a D to an A. Most of the questions on this paper, though, seemed possible to solve by simply using common sense. I walked out of the exam hall thinking that, perhaps, I hadn't done badly at all.

I picked up my bag from the girls changing room, having not bothered with a jacket, and started walking over to meet the others where they were congregating outside the school gates. And that was when it hit me. Good God, the exams were over! Forget that - _school_ was over!

A grin growing on my face, I ran to catch up with the others. Allan spun around as I reached them and, before I could protest, grabbed me and hefted me into the air. I screamed, struggling against him, catching sight of Robin's face as he burst out laughing at the look of surprise on mine.

"I hate you," I sneered good-naturedly as Allan put me down. He didn't seem offended in the slightest.

"Don't care," he grinned, "We're free!"

I stuck my tongue out at him and moved to lean up against Robin, resting my head against his shoulder and heaving a sigh of relief. He looked down at me, raising his eyebrows.

"All over!" I breathed happily, "All the revision, work and worrying. It's all done with."

"For now," he agreed, and there was something in his voice that I couldn't quite put my finger on. He just didn't sound as relaxed as he should have been, somehow. When I gave him a quizzical look he just smiled down at me, apparently making an effort to look pleased.

I frowned. "What's gotten into you?"

He laughed. It didn't sound at all forced, and suddenly I wondered if I'd been imagining it all. "Nothing," he assured me, then looked around at the others, grinning, "Come on, we can't just leave without leaving our mark on the place."

"It would be wrong not to at least do _something_," Will agreed and Djaq, who was reaching up to rest her forearm on his shoulder, smiled.

Much shot Robin a look of trepidation as both he and Allan swung their bags off of their shoulders and began to rummage inside.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're going to get into very deep trouble for this?" he asked, his voice long-suffering. Robin looked up at him from where he was still fiddling with something inside his backpack, and grinned.

"Much! It's going to be fine!"

"Coming from you, that does absolutely nothing to reassure me," Much sniffed.

The contents of both boys' backpacks came to the following: cans of spray paint in various colours, six; six pack of eggs, four; catapult; one. My eyes widened as we walked through the car park towards the school's old clock tower and Allan carefully spread out our arsenal on the grass. Djaq took one look at it all and cackled with laughter.

"Oh, this is going to be legendary!"

Robin, bent over as he checked our little catapult, smiled up at her. "That's the plan."

Fifteen minutes later and we were fully operational.

"How many points if you get the sign?" Djaq asked, squinting up at the tower as she aimed the catapult.

"Depends which bit. A hundred for just the sign, a hundred and fifty if you get the crest," Robin grinned.

"Three hundred if you get the clock face," Allan added and as one we all turned to stare up at it, it's ancient hands still miraculously ticking away, right at the top. It would be impossible… There was really no way that we were going to get it, but right then it became our new target.

"Oooh, close!" Allan cried as Will took his next turn and his egg splattered against the bricks not far that from the clock.

"You've got the height, but have you got the aim?" I questioned, grinning.

"Give us it here, I'll show you how it's done," Robin teased, taking the catapult and a new egg. I just laughed at him.

"You're all talk and no trousers," I accused him, and was about to say more when he let the egg fly. It soared through the air in a graceful arc and landed right on the minute hand, leaving a splatter of yellow on the white clock face. I gaped, and he turned around to laugh at my stunned expression.

"You were saying?"

I swallowed, trying to think of a suitable comeback. "I betcha couldn't do that again," I concluded weakly.

"I could!"

"You couldn't, mate. We're out of eggs," Much commiserated, and Djaq groaned.

"It's alright," Will consoled her, "It's time to crack open the paint."

By the end of the afternoon _RAWDMM_ was scrawled in towering letters across the red bricks of the school building; carefully painted and decorated, it was a work of art. Then, just because we felt like it, we took another colour and sprayed _Sheriff woz ere _by the school entrance in the hopes of getting him into trouble. We were sitting on the grass, contemplating our next move, when Much looked around and sat up straighter, looking distinctly worried. I raised my head from where it was pillowed by Robin's leg, shooting him an enquiring look.

"I don't want to alarm you," he began carefully, "But the caretaker is coming this way and he don't look happy."

The rest of us sat up then, and the irritable old man was indeed striding towards us looking more than just a little displeased. Evidently he'd seen our handiwork. It didn't look as though he appreciated it.

"I suggest," said Robin slowly, climbing to his feet, "… That we _leg it!_"

Grabbing onto each other to find our balance, we all jumped up and started to run, reassured that at least the caretaker wouldn't be able to chase us far on his dodgy leg. Still, we only slowed down once we were out of the school and were a good few streets away from the school. We collapsed on a low brick wall, laughing and gasping for breath, clinging to both the bricks and each other as we tried to regain our composure.

"You and your plans," I turned to Robin and Allan, trying to stifle my laughing and glare at them properly. "You could have gotten us killed!"

Robin gave me an incredulous look. "Killed?"

The corners of my mouth twitched upwards, but I resisted the temptation to smile. If I smiled, I'd laugh, and if I did that then I wasn't sure that I'd be able to stop.

"He might have beaten us to death with his walking stick?" Will suggested, grinning.

"Exactly!" I cried. "You're completely irresponsible. You could have led us to our walking-stick induced deaths!"

"I elect Much as our new leader," Djaq added, smiling mischievously. The poor boy looked most alarmed at the thought, but I wasn't about to allow him any reprieve.

"So do I!" I backed her up, raising my hand and watching with amusement as Djaq put hers up then grabbed Will's too, pushing it up into the air. He looked too pleased at the unexpected hand-holding to disagree with her. With sharing an entertained glance, Robin and Allan put their hands up too.

"It's unanimous. Much, you're in charge," Djaq told him, grinning widely.

"What's the latest plan then, oh fearless leader?" I wondered, and his look of trepidation turned into a smile.

"I say we pay a little visit to the chippy," he announced. So we did, the lot of us talking and joking, laughing like idiots and generally making a nuisance of ourselves as we walked to the parade of shops where the King Neptune took pride of place. There were already groups of people, school kids celebrating their newfound freedom just like us, gathered around outside. I'd expected it to be busy. What I hadn't expected was for Sheriff's gang to be hanging around nearby.

I tried not to take much notice of them as we passed, but I could _feel _Guy's eyes on the back of my neck, and stiffened. Robin, who's arm I had linked mine through as we were walking, noticed and shot me a puzzled look. I said nothing, but he looked past me and noticed the cause of my agitation. At once his features creased into a frown.

"Ignore them," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth and, looking as though he was tempted to do the very opposite, Robin nodded. We got to the door of the chip shop and Much groaned theatrically.

"Look at the queue!"

It was quite impressive, snaking from the counter, which was just inside the door, to the back of the shop and doubling around again so that the last person kept having to move to keep themselves from getting squashed by the opening and closing door. Evidently the rest of the school had decided to come celebrate there too.

"I'm not queuing up in there," Allan decided promptly, glancing at Will, who raised his eyebrows.

"Well I'm not!"

"Me neither," Djaq added.

"Or me." That was Robin.

Unfortunately, Much and I were the last to speak and therefore, as the others insisted, in charge of queuing up and getting the chips. There was much complaining (on my part) and resigned rolling of eyes (on his part), but in the end we ended up stuffed inside the busy little shop, breathing in the scent of cod, vinegar and slightly sweaty people. It wasn't the sweetest aroma I'd ever encountered, and time seemed to stretch on indefinitely.

Much's watch told me that it only took five minutes before we were at the front of the queue, but I felt sure that something had gone wrong there, somehow.

"Six small chips, please," I told the man behind the counter, watching with mild interest as he scooped up each portion into paper cones.

"That'll be six quid, love."

I sorted through the coins that the others had stuffed into my hands a few minutes before, and Much pulled out a handful of coppers from his pocket.

"Um…" he sounded intensely uncomfortable, "Can you lend me a pound?"

I nodded, pocketing the coins and pulling out a tenner. "Course."

"I'll pay you back later, when I get some money out," he added quickly.

"Don't worry about it," I shrugged, paying. "It's only a quid."

He didn't say anything for a moment and there was a silence while I watched the man serving fumble with my change. I looked at him, confused.

"I _can_ pay you back," he said.

"Okay," I agreed, bemused.

"I will when we get to a cash point. I get paid tomorrow. I've got enough," he added hastily.

If I'd known he'd be so sensitive about money, I'd have told him to buy his own bloody chips.

"Tell you what," I offered, "Next time you make scones, save me a couple. Yours are delicious. Worth at least a quid."

For a moment it looked as though he were going to argue, then he smiled. "Okay."

Between us we gathered up the six paper cones ,scattering a couple of chips on the floor as we struggled with the door. The poor bloke wedged in the doorway took pity on us at last and I thanked him for holding it open as we stepped outside.

I looked around for the others and didn't see them at first, but then my eye was drawn to a small crowd gathering over by the garages. Sharing a concerned look with Much, I hurried over.

"Long time no see," Sheriff's loud voice was audible even from a distance. When I recognised the one answering as Robin's my heart sank.

"And I was so enjoying it. Why'd you have to go and spoil it now?"

"Touchy, Locksley?"

Robin shrugged. "Being faced with your ugly mug will do that to a man."

I reached them in time to see Robin turning away from his rival, dismissive.

"Very funny," Sheriff sneered as he started to walk away. "So tell me, how's your mum?"

Robin froze, and I saw his jaw clench. "None of your business."

Sheriff and Guy, who stood behind him, both smiled at the reaction.

"Touched a nerve?" Sheriff asked innocently. "Well, I suppose if my mum had OD's I'd be a bit peeved, too."

Robin turned back to face him, voice low and utterly dangerous. "Shut up."

I got the feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

"A bit sensitive? A bit _ashamed_?" Sheriff continued, gloating. "I would be. I heard the woman's a crack whore. They found her with the needle in her arm and her knickers still around her ankles-"

But he didn't get any further, because that was when Robin snapped.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** I warn you now, dear readers, this chapter contains violence and quite a lot of swearing. My only defence is that if you were in a situation like the one that follows, I bet that you wouldn't be watching your language either ;)

Littlemissmaster - Sorry I didn't get this chapter up as quickly as you'd hoped for, but I hope the action will make up for that

Kate - Ah, coursework - the bane of my existence! I hope you did well on it, and thanks for your review. As always, you say such lovely things

Warriorgirl4eva - Hee. It's what Sheriff deserves, isn't it?

LittleMissSparkles - Thank you! I have to admit, their plans for the last day of school might have been just _slightly_ inspired by real life xD

SilverStella - Thanks, and sorry for keeping you in suspense!

Bookflower - You'll have to read and see ;)

One moment Sheriff and Robin were standing a few feet apart, Sheriff looking maliciously amused, Robin tense and angry, and in the next there was chaos. I blinked, too shocked to do anything else, and could only watch in surprise as Robin's fist met face with a satisfying thud and Sheriff staggered backwards with a bloody nose. For a few seconds his expression was almost comically surprised, but then it hardened into anger; Sheriff wasn't a person who was used to being hit, and I got the feeling that he wasn't the type to let someone get away with it, either. Even as I watched he retaliated, punching Robin in the stomach only to earn himself a knee in the stones for his trouble.

Sheriff's little group stood dumbfounded and fidgeting awkwardly, obviously at as loss as to what to do. The gang's expressions, meanwhile, were torn between satisfaction and horror. Then Allan whipped out his phone and started recording the fight.

"This is _so _going on Youtube!"

I watched in horror, restrained by Much's hand on my arm, as Sheriff elbowed Robin in the midsection again and he doubled over, winded. Tense and worried, I tried to step forwards again but this time Will's arm came out too to stop me. With good reason, too, because a moment later Robin had straightened up, looking angrier than I'd ever seen him before. In one fluid movement he had grabbed hold of the front of Sheriff's school shirt and shoved him up against the wall. His forearm was under Sheriff's chin, making sure that the other boy couldn't move without risking strangulation, and as we watched he brought back his other arm, hand balled into a fist, and punched Sheriff again.

I'd seen plenty of fights in the school playground, but nothing like this. This wasn't the sort of thing we were used to; a few punches and a bit of wrestling. The two boys meant business, and it was bloody terrifying. Their expressions were both furious and utterly determined as the two grappled, but it looked as though Robin quite firmly had the upper hand. Sheriff was struggling vainly, still pinned against the wall and becoming more and more red in the face by the minute, either with anger or exertion, or possibly both.

Then it happened, faster than my eyes could see.

There was a movement, a flash of something, and Robin's grip on Sheriff faltered, allowing the pinned man to wrestle himself free and make a dash for freedom. Robin just stood frozen, apparently stunned, and Sheriff ran past us all to disappear around the corner, somehow looking more frightened than ever now that he had gotten away.

As he passed me I saw something in his hand, something that glinted like metal but I was caught up in the moment, still wired from the atmosphere of a fight, and did not understand. Then Robin doubled over, fingers scrabbling at the bricks to hold himself up as he leaned against the wall, and cold dread settled in my stomach. Something had gone horribly wrong here.

Dream-like, I felt myself moving forward, pushing through the circle of Robin and Sheriff's mates who had gathered around to watch the fight developing, and this time nobody made a move to stop me. Robin looked up as I ran to him, mouth open and suddenly white, looking as shocked as I was. My eyes travelled down from his face to the bright white of his school shirt, on the front of which bloomed a bright flower of arterial scarlet.

I suddenly had to fight hard not to gag.

"Shit, shit!" I someone moaning, and realised a moment later that it was me making those distressed sounds. There was movement all around me, and out of the corner of my eye I registered Sheriff's mates starting to scatter, suddenly wanting nothing to do with the scene now that it had turned nasty, but I had eyes only for the person in front of me. He still just looked very, very surprised. I didn't think that the pain had registered yet.

He held out a hand in front of him, still clinging to the wall, and seemed transfixed by the sight of blood sticky on his fingers. Then he looked up, his eyes met mine, and he spoke faintly. "Ah… shit." Then his legs buckled and he slid down the wall like a broken puppet.

I clawed at my trouser pocket, pulling out my phone and staring in disbelief at the screen when I realised that the battery had died. Scarcely caring that it was pretty new and also very expensive, I threw it aside in frustration and looked around desperately. My gaze fell on Guy, still standing ineffectually where Sheriff had left him.

"Guy!" I cried, and it looked as though he were tempted to run away as I turned my attention to him. The sound of his name coming from my lips, though, seemed to hold him in place for the moment. "Your phone!"

Guy's hand came out of his blazer pocket, fingers wrapped around his silver Nokia, but he made no further move. Either he was too shocked by what had happened to be thinking straight, or he was reluctant to help out his rival. I didn't give a damn, I just wanted an ambulance.

"Give me your fucking phone, Guy!" I cried. I must have been a frightening sight, because he handed it over without argument and backed away, muttering something about me returning it another time. I wasn't listening, I was busy dialling _999_.

The woman who picked up sounded irritatingly calm as she asked me which service I required.

"Ambulance," I stammered, "Please, I need an ambulance. Someone's been stabbed…"

I struggled to focus on the woman's questions as she tried to find out more about the situation, but I could hear Robin saying something next to me as Much and Djaq crowded around him, but then Will's hand was on my shoulder and I didn't struggle as he gently prized the phone from my hands.

"Hello?" he said, speaking into it. His voice was relatively calm, and he almost managed to keep it from shaking as he started talking to the woman on the other line. He glanced down to see me looking up at him in surprise and nodded, gesturing at Robin. I offered him a tremulous smile and turned my attention back to what was going on beside me.

Allan had disappeared after Sheriff, still recording the whole scene on his phone and Much looked utterly panicked, kneeling down next to his best friend. Djaq seemed to have undergone a transformation, turning from a determined, unconventional schoolgirl to a serious, capable young woman who kept her head in a crisis. She'd appropriated Much's hoodie and folded it into a pad, using it to apply pressure to Robin's stomach.

"What can I do?" I asked her, kneeling down. She didn't even look up at me as she answered.

"Hold this down over the wound," she told me, "So I can go over to the road to tell the paramedics where we are when they get here. Keep applying even pressure. Don't take it off no matter what. If it bleeds through then just put something else on top, don't take it off. Ok?"

I nodded wordlessly, not trusting myself to speak, and she sprang to her feet, running off down the parade of shops in the direction of the road. Much's jumper was sticky when I placed my hands on it, and when I pushed down blood oozed through the material.

"Find me something to put on top of this," I told him, not bothering to worry that I was barking orders at him, something that he would usually have taken offence at. He didn't argue; just nodded, looking frightened, and hurried off to do as I had said.

"You alright?" I asked when I finally plucked up the courage to look into Robin's face, which was a ridiculous thing to ask because clearly he was the very _opposite _of alright and God, why couldn't I think properly?

"I've been better," he grated out, glaring up at me from where he was propped up against the wall.

"Sorry," I said quickly, and repeated myself when I adjusted my hands on Much's hoodie and he flinched. "Sorry. Sorry. Shit, I'm sorry."

Robin laughed at me. It was an odd sound, tense and utterly mirthless. Behind me I could hear Will still on the phone, sounding unlike himself as he argued with the person on the other line about the availability of the police.

"I don't care how busy you are! This is an _emergency_," he was speaking heatedly into the Nokia, more confident and in charge than I had ever seen him. "So _make _a unit available!"

"Your make-up is running," Robin informed me and I stared down at him incredulously, reaching up with one hand to wipe me face. I hadn't even realised that I'd been crying, but my fingers came away black with mascara. "You look like shit," he added. His comments were so unexpected that I laughed, but even to my ears it sounded wild and hysterical, and I thought that if I went on I probably wouldn't be able to stop. I snapped my mouth shut and raised my eyebrows.

"Well guess what? So do you," I told him, with the sinking feeling that whatever feeble control I had over the situation was slipping away from me. As white as a sheet now, frighteningly so, Robin shot me a grin that was more like a grimace.

"Thanks," he said, "Since I'm bleeding to death, you could at least pretend to be nice to me."

"Don't be stupid," I snapped, "You're not bleeding to death. I won't let you."

I refused to even entertain the thought.

Robin opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment Much chucked me another jumper that he'd begged, borrowed or stole from somewhere and I bundled it on top of the already saturated hoodie that was pressed to Robin's side. His eyes squeezed shut and he made a sound like an animal in pain, arching up off of the pavement.

"Shush," I whimpered, freeing one hand to place it gently on his face, "Oh, God, please…" Where were the police? Where was the fucking ambulance? Through the haze of shock and the panicked ringing in my ears, I thought that I heard the sound of sirens in the distance. I prayed to whichever deity would listen that it was the ambulance.

Robin opened his eyes and looked up at me.

"I think," he said slowly, "That I'm going to pass out."

My eyes widened. "No, no, no, no!" I protested, shaking my head, "Don't you dare."

His eyes closed anyway and for a moment, skin so pale under the orange glare of the streetlights, he might have been a corpse. With one hand still holding the bloody material to his side, my free hand came up and I slapped him, hard. His eyes snapped open again, unfocused but apparently aware of what was going on around him, and I let out the breath that I didn't even realise I'd been holding.

"Did you just hit me?" Robin mumbled dazedly. I frowned down at him.

"Don't scare me like that!" I ordered him. Or tried to, because really the words came out as a plea and he only smiled faintly up at me, as though he lacked the energy to do anything else. c

"Sorry," he sighed, and the single word chilled me to the bone, because what was he apologising for? He slid a little further down the wall and I shook my head, refusing to acknowledge his meaning because _I was not going to let him die on me_.

"Don't you dare!" I hissed, but he didn't seem to be listening anymore, and was that the sound of sirens or just alarm bells ringing in my head? There were flashing lights and confused sounds and nothing, nothing at all made sense except that Robin was closing his eyes again, slipping away from me and I thought that if he did he might not ever come back. With a hand on his shoulder, I shook him fiercely.

"Don't!" I begged him, "Don't leave me. I love you, you idiot!"

His eyes opened again and for one startling moment they looked straight into mine and then there were hands on my arms, pulling me to my feet and guiding me back as paramedics arrived and took my place. Much had his arms around me, managing to be the strong one for once as he got me out of the way of the men from the ambulance which, it seemed, had finally decided to arrive.

"Let me go with him!" I called, as they loaded him into the back, but they ignored me and one said something I didn't quite catch about next of kin. I didn't know what had been said, but I knew that I was being left behind and I didn't like it.

"We should wait for the police," said Djaq, who had reappeared. I nodded in silent agreement because what she had said made sense, but that didn't mean that I had to like it, because I didn't. I didn't like anything about this.

For the first time since Robin had slid to the ground, I looked around. The five of us; Will, Djaq, Much, Allan and I were the only ones left. Sheriff and all of his mates had disappeared, and the sounds of a struggle had driven away any bystanders.

"I am going to kill Sheriff," I choked out through gritted teeth. Allan looked at me from where both he and Will were fiddling with his phone.

"You're not," Will told me sensibly, then continued before I could argue, "Because we're going to get him arrested. Allan was recording the fight on his phone, or had you forgotten?"

"No, I hadn't," I snapped, "So?"

"So we've got a recording of Sheriff attacking Robin, and when Allan chased after him there's a glimpse of the weapon. I'm just trying to cut it down a bit, so we don't have too much of Robin looking like he's beating the shit of out Sheriff," Will continued and glanced at Allan, who was looking grimly satisfied.

"We might as well make the most of what happened," he said, "Think of it. Possession of an offensive weapon. Assault. Might even get him done for attempted murder. Think of it, Sheriff's future's going to be ruined. His family's reputation is going to be in shreds."

In any other circumstances, I would have been delighted at the prospect. As it was, I was just consumed with worry, and couldn't make myself concentrate on what the others were saying. I looked to Much, and he seemed to understand. He looked as distressed as I was feeling.

"We need to get to the hospital," he interrupted, cutting Allan off mid-flow as he continued to discuss what he was going to tell the police when they finally arrived. "We need to find out what's going on."

"In case you hadn't noticed," Allan pointed out, "The ambulance left without us."

"Don't care. I'll walk if I have to," I glared at him.

"A better idea might be to get the bus. It would probably be quicker," Djaq pointed out dryly and I nodded, impatient.

"Come on, then!" I urged, "Lets go to the bus stop. There's one every half hour and it's twenty five past now-"

"Hang on," Will frowned, "We told you, we've got to wait for the police-"

"Well _you _wait then!" I cried, "Because I'm going."

Registering that I was being both petulant and childish, I decided that I didn't care and stormed off anyway. Much ran to catch up with me almost at once, and I could hear the brief sounds of an argument behind me before there was the sound of running footsteps once more and Djaq appeared by my side.

"The boys are going to wait there for the fuzz," she told me, sounding slightly out of breath, "They'll catch up with us later."

I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to speak, and led the way to the bus stop. We got there just in time, the bus pulling up just seconds after we got to the empty shelter. The doors opened with a mechanical sounding clunk and I was inside before they'd even finished opening. Possibly because I looked as deranged as I felt, Djaq quickly stepped forwards and bought our tickets. The driver and the few other passengers on board, a young mother with a crying baby and a group of young chavs, all stared at us as we walked to the back of the bus and took our seats. It was only then that I realised that I had blood smeared all over my hands. Hastily I tried to wipe them clean, but that only made it worse because then it was on my clothes as well, and it probably looked as though I'd just murdered someone.

And that was how the three of us came to be sitting on the bus late at night, white faced and white eyed, wiping blood on the already dirty seats and looking like something out of a horror film. If I wasn't so damn _terrified, _I would have laughed.


	20. Chapter 20

"Here," Much pressed a warm styrofoam cup into my hands and sat down on the hard plastic seat next to mine. Needing to do something, I sipped slowly at the tea, grimacing at the taste. It was so weak that it was just like drinking hot water, but it scalded my tongue and burned on the way down and that felt good, somehow; a distraction from the dreadful prospects my mind kept offering me. Perhaps not surprisingly, I couldn't stop thinking about Robin, bleeding. The scene from earlier in the evening kept playing over and over in my memory and abruptly I put the tea down, fighting the urge to be sick.

Djaq looked up from where she sat on my other side, her head and arms resting on her knees.

"Bog's down there and around the corner," she told me with wordless understanding and gestured down the intimidatingly clean, blue-painted corridor to where a sign on the wall pointed out the direction of the toilets. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head just slightly, leaning back in my chair and fighting back the waves of nausea. After a few moments it abated and I was able to open my mouth.

"S'ok," I grated out, "I'll stay here."

She nodded, an all too knowing look in her eyes. I was determined not to budge until I found out that Robin was going to be okay. I was still telling myself that - that it was a case of when, not if. The idea that he wouldn't be fine was just inconceivable. The whole situation was utterly bizarre, and there was a part of me that was still convinced that in a minute I would wake up and find that this had all just been a terrible dream. I'd even pinched myself once or twice, but it had both hurt and caused Much to shoot me worried looks, forcing me to conclude that this was indeed reality.

We'd gotten off of the bus at the stop closest to the hospital and sprinted into the building, demanding that the woman at reception tell us what had happened to our friend. She hadn't been all that impressed; probably she was contemplating kicking us out, but after an explanation and some serious pleading on my part, we'd been given the benefit of the doubt and were allowed to stay. Now we were just sitting, being shot suspicious looks by the staff as they passed us, just waiting and hoping for news. Not being his next of kin, we weren't allowed to go through to him and whatever they were doing to put him right. The helplessness was terrible.

Much was drumming his fingers against his chair, unable to sit still. Needing to do something with my hands, I put them in my blazer pockets. My fingers wrapped around a packet of tissues, and I systematically tore them all to shreds. Then realised how stupid that was, because my traitorous eyes and nose wouldn't stop streaming. Decided that I didn't care.

Sometimes there were noises from other wards; voices, snatches of conversations, the sounds of trolleys being wheeled down endless corridors. Once, there was far away shouting. Mostly it was quiet, and that was worse.

"There's a payphone by reception," Djaq said suddenly. I think that it was getting to her, the atmosphere. Tension so tangible that it could have been cut with a knife. "I'm going to call my mum and let her know where I am."

Much and I both nodded, neither of us bothering to look up.

"Do you want me to call yours, too?" she offered, looking between me and Much. I nodded silently, only lifting my eyes from the floor when I heard her footsteps walking away. Dad would be worried sick, probably. I'd told him that there would just be a bit of hanging around and celebrating after the last exam, but it was getting late now and he'd had no word from me since before the exam. No doubt he'd be furious, but I couldn't bring myself to be worried about that, too.

I glanced sideways at Much. He had his head in his hands, looking like he was trying to hide from the world. He hadn't said a word since he'd returned from the café by reception with that godawful tea. The silence was deafening, but I didn't have anything to say.

When I heard Djaq's footsteps returning, it was a welcome relief from the monotony. Her expression, though, instantly had me worried. She was biting her lip, looking concerned, and my mind started racing at once. What, what was going on? Had she perhaps been told something, or run into a member of staff on the way back? Was it about Robin? I sat up straighter.

"I told your mum what's going on," she told Much, "She said to call her when you want to come home and she'll come and get you."

The boy nodded silently.

"And Marian…" Djaq looked at me, sounding more nervous than ever, "Your dad… He wants to talk to you. I told him that you'd call him back."

I looked around reluctantly and Djaq sensed my hesitation.

"If anything happens, I'll run and get you," she reassured me and, after a moment, I nodded. I got up, legs stiff from sitting still for so long, and made my way through the endless labyrinth of identical, sterile corridors until I got to the reception. A man standing in the doorway of the gift shop, buying a balloon with '_It's a boy!' _written across it in blue lettering, smiled excitedly at me as I passed him. I just blinked at him in surprise. It seemed impossible that anything good or worth getting excited about could be happening, not while Robin was hurt. I couldn't force myself to return his smile.

At last I reached the payphone and pushed a fifty pence piece into the slot, tapping in my home phone number. For a moment there was silence, and then it started to ring. Dad answered it almost at once.

"Hello?" He answered in his telephone voice. It usually made me giggle, but not today.

"It's me," I told him quietly.

"What on earth is going on?" he asked at once.

"Robin got hurt. He's in the hospital. That's where I am now."

"What happened?"

"There was… a fight," I winced, knowing even as I finished my sentence that it had been the wrong thing to say. Dad's disapproving silence spoke volumes.

"I'm coming to get you," he decided.

"What?" I spluttered, "No, you can't!"

"And why not?"

"I'm not leaving until I find out whether Robin's going to be okay!"

There was a brief pause. And then, "Don't be stupid. I'm coming to pick you up."

"No!" I cried, hardly caring that the people in reception were starting to shoot me curious looks.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no!" I repeated angrily, "I'm not going. You can't make me so _piss off!_"

And I slammed the phone down, breathing heavily. I would be in all kinds of trouble the next time I saw him, I was sure, but I couldn't quite bring myself to care. Ignoring the stares of the people I passed, I turned and marched back down the corridor to where the others were waiting.

Will and Allan had arrived by the time I returned.

"Good news," Allan told me as I reached them, and instantly I was alert. Djaq, shooting me a sympathetic look, interrupted.

"Not about Robin," she sighed, before I could get my hopes up too much. I breathed out heavily, deflated, and collapsed back onto the hard plastic chair.

"Oh."

"It's about Sheriff though," Will added encouragingly, but I didn't bother to look up, just nodded faintly. Right now, I couldn't care less about Sheriff. As far as I was concerned, I never wanted to hear that name again. Unless, of course, it was in the obituaries.

"The police came, about half an hour ago," Allan explained and Much, participating in the conversation for the first time, gave a hollow laugh.

"Nice to see that we're high priority," he remarked bitterly.

"Not as bad as old Margaret who lives opposite. She got broken into last week and they still haven't turned up," Allan launched into one of his frequent anecdotes, but Djaq silenced him with a glare.

"What's the news?"

"Yeah, well. You're gonna like it. We told the bill our story and showed them the video, made Sheriff look really bad. They're out looking for him now. Want to press charges and everything." He paused, looking around at our pale and worried faces, and frowned. "It's what we wanted, isn't it?" he added, defensively.

"It is," I agreed, placating. The sort of thing dreams were made of, really - our enemy's future and family's good reputation in pieces. It just seemed that we'd paid such a high price to get there. When it came down to it, victory over Sheriff wasn't worth Robin. It didn't mean a thing if we didn't have him… If I didn't have him, then nothing did.

"Marian? Marian, wake up!"

I jumped violently, registering that someone was prodding me gently. I opened my eyes and blinked blearily in the harsh, white light of the hospital, unaware that I'd even fallen asleep. I realised that I had fallen against something and sheepishly pulled away from Much's shoulder. He shot me an uncomfortable look as I sat up, discreetly smoothing down his sleeve. My first thought was that I hoped like anything that I hadn't been drooling. My second was 'oh god, Robin-' as memory, closely followed by fear, came rushing back.

"What's going on?" I asked at once. "Is it about Robin? Did they tell you something?"

Will, Djaq and Allan were all standing, and I could have kicked myself for falling asleep at a time like this. Coming to think of it, I had absolutely no idea what time it was. But that hardly mattered now, of course.

"Yeah," Much said, a little breathlessly. His expression was unreadable; I couldn't tell whether his eyes were wide with despair or relief. Wildly, I looked to the others who's faces were equally enigmatic. Then, after a moment, Djaq smiled.

"It's alright," she breathed, "He's alright."

My breath escaped me in a sound that was half sigh, half sob and I squeezed my eyes shut, just concentrating on breathing. I was shaking, I realised. Trembling like mad but it was okay, it was okay because he was okay and oh, I'd been so _terrified…_

Djaq was saying something, about intestines and antibiotics but I didn't really catch any of it because I was busy trying to control the wild beating of my heart, pounding against my ribcage, revelling in the heady delight that only comes when disaster had been narrowly averted.

A nurse walked past and I sat bolt upright.

"Can I see him?"

She looked at me, smiling sympathetically. I ignored it; I didn't want her pity.

"Not tonight," she told me then added, slightly more gently, "But he'll be here tomorrow."

And suddenly, tomorrow seemed like such a brighter place.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay! Blame my teachers, and the ridiculous amounts of homework they've been setting me.

Warriorgirl4eva - Thank you!

Kate - Haha, exactly. You're about to find out!

Maths kid - You'll have to read on to see.

LauraElliot - Thank you very much. I hope you enjoy the latest instalment 

Bookflower - He's safe for the moment, at least. I hope this chapter meets up to your expectations and you are very, very welcome.

Mizco - Thank you very much for such a lovely (and complimentary!) review. I'm glad you liked the "it's a boy" bit - it seemed a good way of showing how disconnected one can become in a crisis ;)

LittleMissSparkles - Hee, thanks!

MAR17ian - Sorry to upset you, but I'm pleased that the chapter evoked such a strong reaction! Life never goes smoothly so you can expect a few more bumps, but I can promise you something _hopeful_ very soon 

SilverStella - Thanks!

Dad came storming into the hospital not long after, looking utterly furious, and I had little choice but to follow him back out to the car. We walked along in utter silence but I could feel it building, his anger, like a volcano almost ready to erupt. I had the uneasy feeling that it was going to be explosive.

The silence held until we got to the car. Apprehensively, I opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat, thinking vaguely that I should have gotten into the back, to put more room between the two of us. Dad didn't even look at me as he buckled his seatbelt and put the key in the ignition. The engine roared into life, and then he turned his head towards me.

"I've been trying to phone you for _three hours_." His voice was low. Quiet. Dangerous.

"My battery died," I defended, "And I did let you know where I was."

"You hung up on me."

Oh, dear.

"I told you. I couldn't have just left him-"

"There are a great number of things you _could_ have done, including staying away from those people like I told you to!"

I laughed bitterly. "So what, I'm not allowed to have friends now?"

"Of course you are. Just not the type that hospitalise each other! I brought you up to know better than that, Marian-"

"Do you know who it was that put Robin in hospital?" I asked. "Do you know what happened?"

"Well perhaps if you'd care to tell me, for once-" Dad began hotly.

"I'll tell you!" I snapped, interrupting him, "It was Sheriff. John Sheriff. John-mother's-a-friend-of-yours Sheriff. John-brought-up-to-know-better Sheriff. He had a knife, and he stabbed my friend."

That silenced him, if only for a moment. Perhaps for something to do, or because he didn't want to have to look at me, he pulled away and started driving home.

"He wouldn't," he said, eventually. Rather than anger, his voice now held an almost pleading quality to it, as though we were waiting for me to tell him that it was all a joke, that of course someone as well off as Sheriff couldn't have done such a thing. Dad was the sort of man who read about the teenagers getting stabbed and shot down in London or in the rougher areas of the city, but wouldn't dream of the same sort of things happening on his own doorstep. I suspected that this was a rather unpleasant wake-up call.

"I'm not lying," I told him irritably. "Just you wait until we go past his house. There'll be police outside it, I bet you. They're looking for him."

Dad didn't say anything after that, but I saw him crane his neck to peer closely at Sheriff's house as he drove past his road. Sure enough, there was a blue and fluorescent yellow Volvo parked on the grass verge outside, complete with little blue lights on top. I glanced at dad triumphantly and he said nothing though I could see his mind working furiously. It wasn't long before we pulled up outside the house and I got out almost before the car had stopped moving, striding to the door and quickly stepping inside. Before I could contemplate disappearing upstairs, Dad followed me in.

"You understand, don't you? That I'm just trying to keep you safe," he told me, walking into the lounge. He didn't sit down and I hovered in the doorway, frowning slightly.

"There's a difference between looking out for me and smothering me," I reminded him, and now it was his turn to look angry.

"Well if you didn't insist on getting yourself involved with all of this…" he trailed off.

I raised my eyebrows. "All of this what?"

"Boys. Gangs. Stupid behaviour and _danger_."

"The whole world is dangerous, dad!" I dismissed, with a hint of derisive laughter. "You can't keep me locked away from it my whole life. I do have one, you know."

"I do know," he answered grudgingly, "I want you to have one - a wonderful one. But you're my only daughter, and I don't want you getting hurt!"

I had a sudden flash of memory, a scene from a summer ten years in the past. A welsh mountain pony called Max that dad had bought me and then sold again the first time I'd hurt myself falling off of him, to save my from any further injuries. I'd been scared of horses ever since, and never learned to ride properly. Now the same scenario was happening all over again except this time it bigger, this time he was trying to protect me from _life_. I realised his perspective of me hadn't changed since I was a little girl, and it made me both sad and rather furious.

"Everyone gets hurt at some point!" I protested, "And if you keep trying to protect me I'm never going to live. I'm not a little girl anymore, so stop treating me like one!"

He regarded me silently for a moment and I thought that perhaps something had got through to him. When he met my gaze, expression unreadable, I glared defiantly back at him. Eventually he looked down and sighed.

"I met your mother when I was your age," he told me quietly, so that I almost had to step closer to hear him. "We were at school together."

I stepped into the room and perched on the edge of the armchair as he sank onto the sofa, watching him interestedly. He'd never talked about mum much before; I'd always got the impression that he still found it painful.

"She was beautiful, my Kate. You look just like her." He didn't look at me as he spoke, just stared sadly into the fireplace. And suddenly, I started to understand. I was his only link to her, a living tribute and he couldn't stand the thought of losing that connection. "I loved her. So much. And I love you. I know you don't think so, but I do."

"I know," I agreed, patiently. "And I love you. But I'm not mum. I'm my own person. I've got my life, and I've got my friends. And I love them, too."

Dad looked up at me, his expression suddenly shrewd. "And you love him."

I said nothing.

"That Robin boy," dad continued, watching me closely. "Don't think I don't recognise him. He's that little tearaway you used to go around with in primary school, isn't he? And now…" He looked at me, a little sadly, but I got the feeling that he was starting to see me as more than a child now. I hoped.

I smiled back. "Yeah, just a bit."

"Visiting hours are four until half five tomorrow," he told me at last and, before he could become embarrassed or do anything to stop me, I pulled him into a very undignified hug.

It had been awkward speaking to my dad the previous night but somehow the words just seemed to come, and it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world to admit that I… I loved Robin. I'd admitted it out loud twice now, and though the first had come out purely unintentionally, the by-product of desperation and adrenalin, I couldn't deny the truth of it. The idea was still frightening and new, but there was a strange sense of determination that came with the confession; the feeling that at least now I knew my own heart. If I was honest with myself I'd had the knowledge for weeks, perhaps even since I bumped into Robin in the corridor on the first day back after Christmas. I just hadn't _wanted_ to know until now. It's funny how you don't appreciate something until you think you've lost it, isn't it?

That still didn't stop me from being nervous about seeing him, though. My stomach roiled nervously as I stepped through the double doors and into the hospital reception for the second time in two days. The place seemed different, less threatening in daylight. The woman at reception, thankfully not the same one as the night before, looked up from her computer screen as I approached nervously. She eyed me curiously as I gave her Robin's name, but I ignored it. She looked up his ward for me and then, when I looked at her blankly, offered me directions.

At last I set off, alone again. Dad had dropped me off with the promise that he would be back at five o'clock to pick me up, but hadn't offered to accompany me. Far from being disappointed, I just got the feeling that he knew me too well, because I would have denied any offer of support anyway. I wanted to be alone when I saw Robin.

At last I reached the ward, stepping nervously through the doorway. At once a sign demanded that I disinfect my hands and I did so, rubbing them with the odd smelling foam that a nearby dispenser provided. In front of me was a desk where presumably a member of staff would stand but there was nobody there and so I wandered down the ward, peering hesitantly at each group of beds and trying to look apologetic when the people in them shot me odd looks. I passed a young woman, barely recognisable beneath the bandages swathing her head and neck and my stomach clenched.

_This is a place of death,_ my mind offered me treacherously, and I struggled to push away the thought. The place smelt strongly of disinfectant; that vaguely unpleasant, clinical smell, but underneath it there was a trace something else. Infection, or blood, or death. I was starting to make myself feel sick.

I made an effort to stop thinking so morbidly, my eyes skimming over the bed of injured and ill people, some obscured by curtains while their loved ones gathered close, and finally came to the last set of beds. I glanced over two battered blonde women and an older man, either unconscious or asleep, and then my eyes came to rest of the bed farthest from me. The person on it was conscious and currently seemed to be arguing good naturedly with the nurse tending to the man in the bed next to his. I would have recognised him anywhere.

"Robin!"

Both he and the nurse looked up and I walked over and she looked me over with a slight smile before moving off to tend to someone further away. Deliberately giving us a little privacy, I though, and wondered if anything had been said about me. I was grateful for it, anyway.

"Hi," I said, a little hesitantly. What were you mean to say to someone in this situation, anyway? How about '_Sorry you got stabbed in the gut. Hurt much? And oh yeah, last night I told you that I loved you.'_

"Come to visit me?" Robin reached out and gestured vaguely at the chair next to his bed. Taking the hint, I sat down.

"Yeah. Thought I'd better. Pulled the short straw, didn't I?"

Robin grimaced. "You could at least _pretend _to be nice to me."

I blinked. "You said that last night," I told him, a little shakily. His midsection was covered by sheets, but there was a catheter in the back of his hand and I tried not to look at it. I forced myself to look back up to his face and he just seemed vaguely puzzled.

"Did I? I don't really remember," he shrugged.

"You don't? What do you remember?" 

"That it bloody hurt," he pulled a face, "And I remember you. I can remember your face, just being there the whole time. Thanks for that." He made an effort to smile at me, but I barely noticed. 

"You don't remember anything else?" I asked.

"No, not really. I mean, I wasn't exactly cohere-" he trailed off, looking up at me. I must have looked upset, or shocked, because then he continued, "Why, did something important happen?" 

He didn't remember. The words, born of panic, that had slipped so hastily from my mouth the night before might as well have never existed, because he didn't remember them. Wide eyed, I slowly shook my head.

"It was nothing."

A part of me was begging him to argue, to insist that it obviously _was_ something, so why didn't I tell him? But he seemed to lack the energy and my courage had deserted me. It was one thing to say the words in the middle of a crisis, another to say them in the harsh light of the morning after. Because what if he laughed at me? What if he threw the words back in my face? What if he broke my heart? He was the sort of person who was good at things like that.

"What?" 

I jumped, realising that I had fallen into uneasy silence. Robin was looking up at me, frowning slightly.

"So maybe it was something," I admitted, watching as he smiled briefly. 

"A mystery, was it? Or some big, dark secret?" He was teasing me, I realised. The bastard was bed-ridden and by all accounts should be in pain, and he was teasing me. I smiled.

"I said things. Um… quite, quite important things."

He struggled to sit up straighter but when it appeared that he was making no progress he gave up and slumped down again, raising his eyebrows expectantly up at me.

"What-" he began but trailed off, looking up over my shoulder. For a moment I thought that something must be wrong, something must be hurting him but then I heard voices behind me and turned around to see Much, Djaq and Will approaching. I loved them. Of course I loved them, but I had to curse their timing.

"Allan wasn't let in," Much grinned as they gathered around, Will looking around cautiously before pinching the chair from the bed opposite. 

"Only because there's a four visitor at a time rule for this ward," Djaq explained, shooting Much a mildly reproving look. Then she looked to me and smiled. "When they told us that we knew it had to be you here."

"So how's our fallen leader?" Will asked, dryly. Robin had just been watching as we all crowded in, loud and colourful and effectively taking over this end of the ward. He looked slightly incredulous. 

"A bit doped up, if I'm honest," Robin answered, with a mildly inane smile.

Djaq laughed. "That's not very heroic. You're meant to be struggling bravely through the pain, not up to your eyeballs with prescription painkillers."

Robin shrugged. "This way's a lot more fun, though."

Will smiled. "Sheriff got arrested last night. Apparently he's still at the station. The recording and our eyewitness reports are all they need, they're going to press charges."

As the others launched into an enthusiastic discussion about what would happen to Sheriff, which started out with him unable to ever get a decent job and grew gradually ruder and ruder until it culminated with him being regularly sodomised in prison, I sat in silence. Like Robin, who was quite obviously out of it and apparently struggling slightly to keep up with the conversation, I occasionally added my input but spent most of my time simply listening. Or, more accurately, just watching Robin. The others seemed high spirited with relief that things seemed to be going our way now, but I couldn't forget just how narrowly disaster had been averted.

If the ambulance had been just a little slower in arriving, if the wound had been just a few inches higher, if he'd lost just a little more blood… My mind couldn't stop running through the possibilities and I fidgeted, not reassured by Robin's pale face. He didn't look well, and I couldn't get over how close we came to losing him. And it didn't help that I hated hospitals. I barely noticed when the others swapped places every now and again, one going down to the café to give the person left outside a chance to come in. None of them asked me to leave.

Five o'clock came and went, and five minutes later the nurse from before walked past and told us apologetically, but in no uncertain terms, that we had to go. Reluctantly, we all got to our feet and walked out to the car park where my dad was waiting in his car.

"How is he?" Dad asked uncertainly as I got into the passenger seat.

I shrugged. "Alive."


	22. Chapter 22

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A/N: Wow. It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry for the delay, but real life has been a bit wild lately. I'd love to reply to everyone's comments individually, but I just don't have the time at the moment so sorry, but I am very, very grateful

Hopefully there won't be such a long delay before I can get the next, and final, chapter up.

The dress mocked me.

It hung from the hanger adorning the back of my bedroom door, the beads carefully sewn into the bodice glittering as the sun streamed in through my window, and mocked me. The silken material glimmered a startling green; the colour or emeralds, or perhaps Robin's eyes. It was beautiful, and I hated it.

At that moment all of my worry, hurt and confusion was piled together into one great tangle of _anger_ and it was channelled all at the prom dress. By the force of my glare as I perched on the edge of my bed, staring at it, it was a wonder it hadn't burst into flame.

Don't get me wrong; it was a lovely dress. It was what it represented that stung.

It had been carefully chosen and paid for months ago now, a one off shipped over from America so that I could be secure in the knowledge that it would be unique. That was so long ago now that I'd still been following Sheriff and Guy around at the time, but I could remember the moment of purchase clearly. I'd chosen the colour carefully, partly because a fashion magazine I'd read previously had assured me that it would compliment my hair and skin but mostly because Guy had just told me that he was going to wear a blue shirt and I was determined to clash.

Lately, though, I had started to entertain thoughts about going to the leaver's prom with my friends. With Robin, really. I'd even started to plan it in my head, as pathetic as that might be. We'd all go in a group, of course. There would be the six of us, maybe Eve if Much was lucky and in all probability a random girl that Allan dragged along. Dad would hire out a limo to take us there and back again. In some of my more embarrassing daydreams, I had even imagined the dancing. I'd coax Robin onto the dance floor to the tune of one of our favourite songs, but the next melody would be a slow one. Gradually, we'd get closer. He'd lean in… But now that dream was just that, a dream. It would never be a reality.

Hence the glaring and the anger and just maybe a few tears as well.

I sniffed and even in my moment of distress remembered not to try to wipe my face. Dad had paid some bored beautician good money earlier to plaster on my make-up, and though I was sincerely beginning to wonder whether I should bother going to the prom at all there was still a part of me refusing to let me make my mascara run. Because the dress has been paid for, my hair had been done and soon the limo would be waiting. In the words of the late, great Freddie himself "the show must go on". Life went on, even when you didn't want it to. It was cruel like that.

The limousine arrived on time and so did the others, Will, Much and Allan looking surprisingly smart in their hired suits. Djaq was almost unrecognisable in a pale gold dress, though she'd apparently opted against the trend for gaudy, glittering jewellery and tiaras and wore shells around her neck instead. Dad had offered me a necklace of my mother's that he had kept, green and silver and utterly beautiful, but as much as I appreciated what it must mean to him I had turned it down. It didn't feel right. None of it did, really.

We snapped pictures of each other with the disposable cameras in the limo and convinced the driver that it really was necessary to play Allan's vaguely profane CD at full volume, but every now and again we would pause, looking slightly uneasy, as though we knew it felt wrong to be going with such an integral part of our group missing.

The photographs and meal went excruciatingly slowly. Speeches were made but everyone could feel that something was missing, not just myself and my friends. The remainders of Sheriff's gang, without its ringleader and Guy, were there gathered in an unhappy group and looking both purposeless and uneasy. This was with good reason, because the tables had turned on them now that Sheriff was no longer around. The last we'd heard he was going to be charged with assault, possession of an offensive weapon and GBH, and hadn't been seen by anyone in days. Without their leader there to keep the result of the school intimidated, his gang were suffering. Rather than being a boisterous affair, though, everyone seemed subdued by recent events. The fact was, everyone knew Sheriff and Robin, and everyone either liked one or the other. They had been an intrinsic part of school life for the majority of everyone's last and most important year of school, and the prom didn't seem complete without them.

It had been two worry-filled weeks since the incident, and Robin had been out of hospital for a good few days now but I hadn't seen him. He'd gotten worse since the first day I visited him, something about the bacteria from his digestive tract getting into the bloodstream when Sheriff cut into him. When I'd visited him again, the next day, it had been painful to look at him. I couldn't stand seeing him that way, unaware even of what was going on around him, and so like a coward I had stopped going to see him. My only consolation was that he was getting better. He had phoned Much the day that he was released, just a few days ago, to tell him that he was going to be staying with Little John. Though he'd been let out of hospital he still wasn't up to much, and he hadn't tried to contact me at all. I was guilty and the others were miserable.

The music was good and the old manor house that had been hired for the occasion was beautiful, but nobody's heart was really in it.

The others and I sat outside, removing ourselves from the hot and crowded dance floor. A children's playground, built carefully from old logs and surrounded by a low fence, lay a little way beyond the marquee that we had eaten in. The boys vaulted over the fence with ease, Djaq and I struggling slightly to make it over in our shoes. We managed it without giving the boys any flashes of our underwear, though. I suspect that they were slightly disappointed.

With some help, we all perched ourselves halfway up the elaborate climbing frame and sat there, looking up at the stars and listening to the faint sound of music drifting over from the building.

"You've all got to the college next year," I told them, lying back against the logs behind me.

Djaq smiled slightly. "I'm going to. You're going to do physics with me, right?" She nudged at Will with her shoe.

"If I get a B in science," he shrugged, sounding as though he wasn't quite convinced that he would.

"If I get good enough results, I'm in," Much added. There was a brief silence, and all eyes turned to Allan. He pulled a face.

"Well, I s'pose I could do media."

"Do sociology," I advised him, grinning slightly, "That's meant to be the easiest A-Level at the moment."

"Are you calling me thick?" he asked, sitting up and pretending to be offended. I sighed and shook my head, relaxing against the logs behind me.

"You should do drama instead," Djaq suggested, smiling a little wistfully, "You're good at making things up."

"The EMA money's not that good though, is it?" Allan pulled a face.

I shrugged. "You could work part time to earn a bit, if you're that bothered."

He shifted his position to look up at me from where he was perched slightly below on the climbing frame. His expression was sceptical.

"Part time's just gonna may minimum wage though, innit? A mate of my mum's reckons he can get me a job at the post office. At least that would pay decent wages."

"What do you need money for, anyway?" Djaq was curious.

Allan snorted. "To get out of this place, for starters."

Will sat up. "What, out of Nottingham?"

"Well, yeah. Maybe out of England. I don't know."

There was a silence in which the rest of us all stared at him, not sure whether to be horrified or appreciative of his dream. I think that Much summed up the unspoken question on everyone's lips when he spoke a moment later.

"So… what? You're just going to _leave _us?"

"Oh grow up, Much," Allan snapped in reply, and I flinched, "It was going to happen sometime."

And with that he extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and climbing frame that the group had become and jumped down onto the grass. The rest of us were silent, watching him as he walked off in the direction of the manor house and, no doubt, someone who would welcome him onto the dance floor.

And I should have expected this, I really should. But in all the excitement of our feuds with the Sheriff, exams and 'the incident' (as we were now referring to it as), I'd managed to make myself forget that we were coming to the end of an era. Up until now I'd just managed to kid myself that not much was going to change. But the truth was, it already had.

"I'm cold," Djaq said suddenly, gooseflesh rising on her arms, and she shivered slightly in the gradually cooling air.

"Let's go inside," Will decidedly quietly, the rest of us murmuring our assent. Together the four of us followed Allan's lead and retreated back to the warmth and the noise of the manor house, where there would be drinking (covertly, of course) and dancing.

By the time the DJ played Aerosmith in an obvious attempt to make us all cry, all I wanted to do was go home.


	23. Chapter 23

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A/N:

So this is it. The final chapter. I have to admit, I'll miss this story. It's been a part of my life for a good few months now, and I'd like to thank everyone who's read and reviewed.

Kate - Ah, I'm sorry the previous chapter was such a downer. Perhaps this final instalment will do a little to lighten the mood?

DeathlyElegance - Robin and Allan really haven't been having a good time of it, have they? Nor has anyone really, come to think of it. I'm glad the Sheriff's punishment went down well, it's only what he deserved ) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

LittleMissSparkles - Thank you very much for your kind comments. You'll have to read and see, I hope you like it!

Mizco - All part of the struggle of growing up, I suppose. It's a wonder anyone bothers ;)

Bookflower - I'm so glad you've enjoyed this story. I was a pleasure to write, and I'm so grateful it went down well. Hopefully this last chapter won't disappoint.

Jinxywinxy - Thank you very much! You'll have to read on and see what becomes of the characters, but I couldn't really end the story on a sad note, could I?

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Results day dawned bright and clear, light streaming in through my blinds and stinging my eyes as I blinked sleepily in the unexpected sunshine. And then, because this was Nottinghamshire and therefore not entitled to more than three days of nice weather each summer, the skies promptly darkened and it started to rain. I faffed around, picking out what I was going to wear and fussing unnecessarily over my hair, which would just go curly the moment I stepped outside anyway. When I finally went downstairs dad was in the hallway, pulling on his suit jacket.

"What time are you going to find out?" he asked as soon as he caught sight of me, and I knew what he was talking about once. I'd been thinking of nothing else since I'd woken up. After all, only the issue of getting into college, getting into uni and quite probably getting a decent job too rested on what I'd got in my GCSEs.

"We can get them from eleven until half twelve. I'm going to walk over there at about quarter to," I told him, then glanced at the clock and frowned slightly. "Running a bit late, are you? You'll have missed your train."

Dad smiled slightly. "I thought I'd take you over there."

I blinked at him, surprised. "Don't you have a meeting?"

"No, I rescheduled it," he told me then added, as I continued to stare at him, "Why, don't you want me to take you?"

"Of course I do. I just thought you were too busy," I hurried to reassure him as he started to look doubtful, and he smiled. "Wasn't the meeting important?"

"Not more important than my daughter," he put a hand on my arm and I laughed, shoving it off.

"Alright, enough of the soppy stuff!" I reprimanded, but I was smiling too now. It's silly how inconsequential things can mean so much, but suddenly dad's offer of a lift had brightened my grey and frankly quite frightening morning slightly. That didn't get rid of the nervous feeling that I was going to throw up if I tried to eat any breakfast, though. In fact, the closer the clock ticked to eleven o'clock, the worse it got. By the time I got into the car, a little over an hour later, I was feeling distinctly ill. Dad had already given me his speech about how it didn't matter what I got, so long as I had tried my best but it hadn't helped at all.

As we pulled up outside the school, dad negotiating his way through the maze of parked cars lining the streets around it, I spotted other people I recognised from my year walking towards the main entrance, either with family, friends or alone.

"I'll wait here. Come and tell me when you get them," dad told me, offering me a smile that was obviously meant to be reassuring. My stomach churning, I nodded stiffly and got out of the car, unintentionally slamming the door behind me. The short walk to the school's main entrance seemed to take an eternity.

"Hi, Marian," Eve smiled at me as I stepped through the doors.

"Yeah, hi," I answered, trying to smile back at her. I suspect that it came out as more of a grimace. I looked around, spotting a table with two teachers sitting at it. Stacked in front of them were boxes of envelopes, and as I watched students approached, signed their names on a piece of paper and took their envelope. Oh, God…

"Marian!"

I turned around at the sound of my name being called and Will appeared behind me, looking relieved to have found someone he could talk to. On closer inspection, he appeared almost as worried as I felt.

"Hi." I didn't bother trying to force a smile, and he didn't either. We just looked at each other anxiously in an odd moment of complete understanding; we were both terrified out of our wits. Will swallowed hard, apparently reluctant to open his mouth, and then his eyes alighted on something over my shoulder and he looked momentarily less worried.

"Alright?" The something behind me turned out to be Djaq. She was looking paler than usual and there were dark circles under her eyes, as though she hadn't slept well the night before.

"Yeah, you?" I managed. She nodded, then seemed to change her mind and shook her head fiercely.

"No! I'm more scared than I've ever been in my life!" she admitted and Will smiled a little at this, reaching out to pull her into a sideways hug. She said nothing but didn't resist and I turned around, scouring the crowds for any signs of the others.

I spotted Much as he came through the doorway, pausing to talk to Eve. He seemed to laugh nervously at something that she said and then, excusing himself, fought through the crowd towards us.

"I've failed everything, I know it!" he said miserably as he reached us.

"I'm sure your results are fine," I soothed half-heartedly, too nervous myself to really be of any comfort. He just looked at me doubtfully, and I jumped as a hand clapped on my shoulder.

Allan looked far too confident to be allowed. Much pointed this out almost at once.

"Why aren't you scared shitless?" he asked.

Allan shrugged. "My results were gonna be rubbish all along, so why worry about it? I already know what I've got."

Djaq spoke up for the first time since she'd arrived, looking at him reprovingly. "You don't know that. You won't until actually get your results. You might have done alright."

Allan looked at her incredulously. "I fell asleep in the maths exam. What do you think I've got?"

She didn't answer, looking anxious and miserable, but I had stopped listening. A familiar face had just come through the doorway and was looking around somewhat uncertainly. Robin.

"Back in a sec," I told the others, not waiting for an answer before I ran off towards him, hardly caring who I pushed past to get to the doors. He looked up as I neared him and smiled slightly. I would have pulled him into a hug if I hadn't been worried that it might hurt him. He'd probably hate me for thinking it, but he was bound to be a bit more… well, _fragile_ than normal. I remembered this as I reached him and there was an awkward moment in which I wasn't sure whether to touch him or not, or what to do with my hands. I settled for lowering them to my sides and returning his smile.

"Hi." I hated how uncertain that sounded, as though I didn't know how I stood with him anymore. Which I supposed was true, but you couldn't blame me. You try spending a whole hospital visiting hour with someone mostly delirious and barely aware of your presence and see whether you can think of a suitable topic of conversation the next time you see them. Other than "you moan in your sleep a lot when you're ill" which, clearly, would be both embarrassing and ridiculous.

Either he didn't notice my hesitation or he chose to ignore it, for which I was grateful. "Yeah. Well, prepared?"

I shook my head fervently as he looked around for the others, finally seeming to spot them a moment later. He took my hand without thinking so that we did not get separated as we pushed back through the crowd of students towards our friends. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"Terrified, more like," I corrected him, and found myself smiling as he looked over his shoulder at me with a grin.

"Yeah, me too."

I didn't interfere as Much greeted his friend enthusiastically, reminding myself that the boy had been missing Robin as much as I had. There was gentle teasing and laughing for the first time that morning as the others reacquainted themselves, and then silence descended again. As one, our eyes travelled towards the desk where our results awaited us.

"Shall we?" Djaq suggested reluctantly, with the air of one who is torn between wanting to put off the inevitable for as long as possible, and just wanting to get it over with. I glanced at Robin, who nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he looked around at us, "Come on, this is it."

"D-Day," Will remarked grimly, earning himself a half-amused and half-reproachful look from Djaq.

So that was it; the matter had been decided. It was time to get out results. So why was nobody moving?

"Oh come on, you bunch of big girl's blouses," I grinned, taking hold of Robin's arm and pulling him forwards. He didn't resist and the others followed our lead as we approached the desk. Walking to meet our fate, it seemed.

"Hello Marian," the slightly eccentric textiles teacher greeted me with what was clearly meant to be an encouraging smile. "Sign your name on the sheet and I'll find your results for you."

I picked up a pen from the desk and scanned down the list of names, picking out my own amongst others from my registration group. A quick glance around assured me that the others were doing the same, and I signed my name. As I pushed the sheet back towards the teacher she finished rifling through the box of envelopes and held one out to me. I smiled insincerely back at her and took it in shaking hands.

I turned around, stepping away from the desk to allow Allan to collect his results and stared down at the envelope in my hands. It was an innocuous little thing, just brown paper and a sticker saying my name on it. I knew that when I opened it there would be a few sheets of paper inside, but it might as well have been holding my whole future.

"I'll open mine if you open yours," Djaq appeared next to me, holding her own envelope. I nodded shakily.

"Yeah. Ready?"

"Mhm."

"Three…"

"Two…"

"One…"

I ripped through the envelope with shaking fingers, and three carefully folded sheets of paper fell out into my hands. One I scarcely bothered to look at; it explained the grade boundaries and what different things meant. The other two contained my results, a separate sheet for the two exam boards. I looked at the _OCR _one first, heart in my throat.

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English Literature… A.

English Language… A.

Citizenship Studies… A.

Religious Education… A.

And oh god, oh god, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry so I just looked at the certificate from _Execell_ instead.

__

Double Science… BB.

Maths… B.

Statistics… B.

Food Technology… C.

Geography… A.

History… A.

I looked up, open mouthed and not even caring about how gormless I probably looked, and Much, Will and Allan were there too, all of them either still reading or just staring down at their results. I looked at Djaq, and her expression was unreadable.

"Do okay?" I asked her, my voice quiet and a bit croaky.

She nodded, dreamlike, and didn't look up from her results. "Yeah… You?"

"Yeah…" I nodded, and swallowed hard. It hadn't quite sunk in yet and so I reread them, double checking everything. It occurred to me that I should probably start screaming right about… _now._

Djaq beat me to it.

"I got four A stars…" mumbled, then looked up, a grin slowly appearing on her face. She turned to Will, almost pouncing on him in her enthusiasm. "I got four A stars!"

He grinned back, looking both pleased and slightly bemused. "I got Bs in double science," he told her, quietly. She just looked at him for a moment, saying nothing, and he added, "So I can do Physics with you at college."

I turned around as she kissed him, unable to wipe the growing smile from my face. My attention turned to Much. He looked up, smiling a little to himself.

"What did you get?" I asked.

"Six C's and…" he hesitated for a moment, beginning to look pleased with himself, and I found myself grinning already.

"Come on, spit it out!" I urged him.

"I got an A star. In Food Tech," he sounded shocked as he repeated it, looking up at me. Before he could protest, I pulled him into a hug.

"Well done! How'd you manage that? I got a C!"

He disentangled himself from my arms, looking slightly embarrassed. "I betcha got a load of A's though, didn't you?"

"Five. And one A," I grinned. Much was one of the few people I know in this world who could be genuinely happy for other people, and he looked happy now.

"Well done!"

Together, the two of us rounded on Allan. He was still looking at his results, frowning slightly.

"What is it?" Much asked, slightly hesitantly. Allan looked up, apparently confused.

"I got an _A_," he told us, and couldn't have sounded more surprised if he'd just told us that he'd grown an extra head.

My eyes widened, and I made a grab for his results. He pulled them away from my grasp but turned them around to wave them in front of my face. I squinted to make them out, and there it was.

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Drama… A.

I grinned suddenly. "We should have known. You've always been good at making stuff up!"

He stuck his tongue out at me, but seemed to surprised to come up with a witty response. Djaq looked interested now that she had disentangled herself from Will, and together we both took the opportunity to look over his results again. When we did she looked up, seeming half-surprised.

"Allan," she said slowly, "You do know that you've got four other Cs, don't you?"

"I…" he hesitated, realising what this meant. "Yeah I have, haven't I?"

Will smiled. "That's enough to get into the college, mate. They want five Cs or above. You've got it."

"Yeah…" Allan looked so dazed that I couldn't help but burst out laughing. He looked vaguely offended until I wrapped an arm around his shoulder in a sort of sideways hug.

"So are you going to stick with us for two more years?"

"Yeah… I think so, yeah…"

"'Yeah'. Is that all you can say?" Much teased and everyone laughed. Everything seemed so surreal, so dream-like, and for the first time since the incident with Robin and Sheriff I let myself believe that maybe things really were going to be alright. In fact, they'd be just about perfect if I could find Robin… And, as though my every passing whim was a command, I caught sight of the back of his head through the double doors. From what I could see he was standing outside, reading his results. I looked around at the others but they were still enthusing over Allan's unexpected success, and didn't seem to have noticed. Before they could ask me where I was going I was off, heading towards the doors.

"Hey," I called, stepping outside. Robin spun around at the sound of my voice.

"Oh," he said. "Hi."

The results were open in his hand, but both his expression and tone of voice were unreadable. I swallowed hard, eyeing the sheets of paper. He followed my gaze down to them, but said nothing.

"How did you do?" I asked, forcing the question out through a throat that felt as though it wanted to close up through sheer nerves alone.

He pulled a face. "Ok."

And what did that mean, then?

"Let me see?" I asked. He paused for a moment then nodded, holding out the results. It occurred to me that my fingers were shaking just as badly as they had been before I'd received my own results as I took the papers from him and scanned down the column.

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A… A… C… D… B…B…B…B…C…C…C.

He'd only achieved less than a C in Religious Education, but I doubted that he was all that concerned about becoming the next pope anyway. Four C grades, four B grades and two As. Which meant…

"So I'll get a place at the college, then," he spoke up at last. That meant that we were all in, we'd all got the required five C grades or above. The future, so dark and convoluted seeming over the past few weeks, seemed suddenly clearer. And brighter. Two years at sixth form college awaited us. And it would be different, certainly. No doubt there would be trouble in some form or another, but I was content in the knowledge that at least we'd be in it together. We still had two more years until the big wide world could snatch us up and tear us apart from each other. And, standing out in the school car park, the sun finally beginning to break through the clouds, two years felt like forever.

I grinned widely, and unlike my awkward greeting earlier this time I didn't even have to think about it as I grasped him in an enthusiastic hug. It was only when his arms came around me and started to hug me back that I remembered that he'd been hurt, and tried to pull away. He looked down at me, raising his eyebrows at my hasty retreat.

"Sorry, didn't think. Don't want to… You know…" and I gestured to his side, where the knife wound had been. He continued to look at me a little incredulously.

"Oh leave it out," he laughed, "I'm not a pansy."

I grinned. "I don't know about that!"

His eyes widened, pretended to be offended, and I started to back away. I'd hardly taken two steps when he caught up with me, pinning my arms to my sides. Immediately I began to squirm but it was no use, and I could not get free.

"No!" I shrieked, giggling, "Let me go!"

"Not until you say sorry," he refused, and I twisted harder.

"Never!" I cried, determined. But then he started to tickle me and it didn't take long for me to realise that I wasn't going to be able to hold out under such torture. "Alright, I give in! You're not pansy-ish at all, you're very manly and impressive," I gasped, panting and laughing as he finally let me go, looking amused.

He looked a little ruffled from our brief struggle, and it occurred to me that I probably looked considerably rougher, but I couldn't quite bring myself to care. The sun was shining, the future looked bright (but not orange), and everything felt right with the world.

It took me several seconds before I realised exactly how close our little altercation had brought us; his hands were still on my arms though he wasn't holding me any more, and I was close enough to be able to count his eyelashes. If I wasn't so distracted by his mouth, that is, which happened to be right in my field of vision. I tried to focus on it and went cross eyed, realising belatedly that Robin was laughing at me.

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled good naturedly. He raised his eyebrows.

"Make me."

So I did. In the most efficient way possible, of course. It's not my fault that this just happened to involve kissing him, thoroughly, until his look of surprise faded and he finally started to kiss me back. As I felt his mouth open enthusiastically beneath mine I grinned, eyes closed, and reluctantly pulled away.

"Erm…" he said, rather eloquently.

"Cottoned on, yet?" I asked innocently. Robin grinned in response; one of his full on _I'm definitely up to something _grins, which was slightly worrying.

"I think I got the message," he said slowly, "But I'm not sure. I think I should try it again."

And then his mouth was on mine, hands coming up to wind themselves into my hair and I marvelled at how _right _it felt. Just the two of us together, the way things were meant to be. I laughed into his mouth and he opened his eyes, looking at me curiously.

"Why are you laughing?" he sounded slightly suspicious.

"I'm happy," I answered simply, delighting in his change of expression as he grinned and kissed me again, brief and chaste this time.

"Good."

"So is this us together, then? All official like." I tilted my head, content just to look at him.

"If you want it to be."

"Yeah, I do." I nodded, a satisfied smile slowly growing. Robin eyed my expression somewhat warily.

"What on earth have I let myself in for?"

I laughed, he smiled and that was that.

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The end. Fin. Die Ende. Sfarsit. конец. Hasof… Story's over, sod off.


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